


LOVE'S FIERY TEMPEST ARC 2: The Tademait Plateau

by roryheadmav



Series: LOVE'S FIERY TEMPEST [2]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempted Bestiality, Desert romance, Highlander - Freeform, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-07-12
Updated: 2001-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-05 19:06:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roryheadmav/pseuds/roryheadmav
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Second Arc in LOVE'S FIERY TEMPEST. The mysterious concubine Shinno is abducted by a perverted Bandit Chief. As Methos makes plans to save him, a shocking revelation about the fiery man he is protecting pushes him over the edge of guilt and despair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Since LOVE'S FIERY TEMPEST is a continuing saga, please note the correct chapter numbering within the story itself.

 

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

 

        For four days, Methos pursued the bandits relentlessly across the Sahara. He would've gone onwards even at night, but he had the horses to consider. They needed the rest, despite his pressing need to catch up with the bandits.

        Restless and guilt-ridden, the ancient would seek a moment's diversion by pouring himself into the pages of the journal, which he had decided at the last minute to bring along with him. Rather than write, however, Methos drew. Each page depicted every aspect of the Emir's concubine Shinno as he had known him -- as a whoremaster, as a ninja, as a whore dressed in an elegant djellabah or those thin, enticing robes at night. Pages were devoted to studies of that masked face, crowned by a glorious mane of brown silk. Four to six pages, however, concentrated on those beautiful doe eyes -- happy, angry, mischievous, tear-filled...

_        "You promised you would never hurt me!"_

        Those words never failed to pierce his heart. Methos had told Shinno that he wanted to save the younger man from Kamir's evil clutches and desires. But he had not saved the whoremaster from the one man who posed the greatest danger to him, namely the ancient himself. Methos remembered all too clearly how he had reveled in the rape of the helpless concubine, doing nothing to ease his pain. The drug that Kamir had placed in his wine was a flimsy excuse. Even without it, he would've plundered Shinno's beautiful body just as ruthlessly.

        On the third night, after enduring a sirocco for most of the day, Methos made the first of several attempts to put Shinno's face -- without the mask -- on paper. But he could never get it right. Paper was only good for setting down two-dimensional images. Shinno was more than a flat image. In his mind's eye, he could imagine a high cheekbone, fine nose, flawless skin and full luscious lips. It was when he opened his eyes that Methos would realize that his hands had been moving of their own accord, tracing in the air the features of the concubine. Perhaps if he had some clay...

        Frustrated, the ancient had slammed the journal shut. He had more important things to think about. The sirocco would have obliterated the bandits' tracks, making pursuit impossible. Undaunted, Methos visualized in his head the map of the Sahara that Kamir had shown him. Given the direction they had been going to, he had a hunch on where the bandits were headed -- the Tademait Plateau. There was a feeling in his gut that he would find the whoremaster there.

        If Shinno WAS there, what next? Even if he himself were to be captured by the brigands, Methos had no doubt that they could be able to escape. It was the young man himself who would prove to be a problem. After what he had done to him, Shinno would be a fool to trust him. Hell with it, he wouldn't trust himself if he were in close proximity with the concubine.

        Shinno had said that he hated Methos, going so far as to wish that the older man were dead. Since, according to the concubine, he had betrayed Shinno before, Methos knew what he needed to do. He would get down on his knees before the younger man and beg for forgiveness.

        Then, Methos would offer him his sword and ask him to take his head. Yes, that would be best, for both of them.

 

        The morning of the fifth day saw Methos looking down the face of the plateau to peer at the bandits' camp below -- a small tent village with makeshift enclosures for camels and horses at the northern end. There was no sign of Shinno. Seeing the armed men all over the camp, Methos knew that there was no way he could get in undetected.

        Sighing, the ancient stood up and went towards the small hole he had dug through the side of the plateau. Getting down on his knees, he placed the pack of Shinno's weapons inside and covered the hole with rocks. No sense of losing good weapons upon his capture, when he had no doubt in his mind that they would be needing them. Better to keep them here where they would be safe. Just for show, his Ivanhoe would be enough.

        Standing, Methos strode towards the two horses. He then climbed onto Thanatos' saddle. The ancient patted the stallion's neck and nodded to Denko.

        "Come, boys!" he invited. "Let's get this show on the road."

 

        The minute he was sighted, Methos was immediately captured and his sword taken. He was then ushered by two bandits to the meeting tent of the Bandit Chief, Abdullah Bakkar.

        Abdullah was not the type of Bandit Chief the ancient expected. The man was corpulent from decades of gluttony and seeming debauchery, reminding him a lot of that English executioner, Bernie Crimmins. Abdullah, like Crimmins when he last saw him, was licking the juices of the calf leg he was eating off his fingers.

        "I have to admire your tenacity, my friend," said the Bandit Chief, with a smack of his lips. "You're the first outsider to reach our camp."

        "It's not without any difficulty," Methos remarked. "Your men covered their tracks very well. But I will pursue them to the ends of the Earth if I have to. They took something of value from my employer, the Emir Zaid al-Bahir, and I intend to get him back." The ancient's eyes narrowed. "I sincerely hope that you or your men have not...sullied...him in any way."

        Abdullah burst into laughter at that remark. "In truth, we have not...yet. The man who employed us to abduct him did not want him touched as well. However, if my men's claims of that day they took him were true, then it seems you, my friend, have beaten us all to this delectable young creature."

        "I'm not taking all the credit. I believe it was the Emir who took him first, and so many others before me. After all, he is a whore."

        The Bandit Chief smiled knowingly. "Yes, that is true. So, I believe you will not be opposed to my playing with the Emir's precious slut."

        Suddenly, two bandits entered the tent, holding on tightly to a struggling Shinno's arms. The whore's eyes were wide with shock, beholding the ancient. Methos was just as stunned. The Emir's concubine looked the same as when he was taken -- still wearing the same blood-stained robe.

        The bandits pushed Shinno close to their leader. The young man was swift to brace his leg forward so that he didn't stumble into Abdullah's arms. Still, he was within easy reach of the Bandit Chief. Abdullah reached out and tore the flimsy garment from Shinno's lovely body, leaving him naked for all to see. Methos winced at the sight of the congealed blood between the concubine's legs.

        Before Shinno could pull away, Abdullah yanked him down to his knees. With his greasy hands, he caressed the young man's face, fingers teasing the mask.

        "Let me have a look at your face, Little Whore," Abdullah whispered suggestively.

        "GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF ME!" Shinno cried in disgust, giving the Bandit Chief a ringing slap to the face.

        The two bandits quickly grabbed the whoremaster, twisting his arms behind his back, head held in place by fingers gripping his hair. One of the men was about to remove the mask.

        "I wouldn't do that if I were you," warned Methos, "unless you want your head parted from your shoulders. The Emir strictly forbade anyone from seeing his face."

        The Bandit Chief put in, "But this is not the Emir's realm. This is my domain. I can do whatever I want with him."

        "My face is not meant to be seen or touched by a pig like you," hissed Shinno.

        Abdullah's eyes narrowed, his whole visage evoking an aura of menace. "A pig, am I? Let me show you what this pig can do."

        With a clap of his hands, the servants brought a colt inside the tent. The poor thing was newborn, thin and weak with hunger. Its red coat had lost its luster, the tuft of white hair on its brow dry and spiky.

        In answer to the questioning looks on the faces of the men, the Bandit Chief replied, "This is a delightful form of torture I've devised. After it was born, I gave the colt a taste of its mother's tits before having her killed. Starving as it is, it would nurse on anything that looked like an udder."

        At these words, the bandits forced the whoremaster's legs wide apart, hips thrust forward that his cock and his scrotum dangled enticingly before the colt's eyes.

        "No!" shouted Methos, going to the younger man's aid, but he was held back by his two guards. "You damned bastard! I'll kill you!"

        Abdullah, however, simply ignored him. With a wave of his hand, he ordered in glee, "Set it free!"

        The colt's knees trembled as it all but stumbled towards Shinno, its hunger-clouded black eyes focused on the concubine's cock.

        As Methos looked helplessly at the whore, he saw that there was a strange expression on the young man's face. Tears were filling Shinno's eyes as he watched the emaciated colt's slow approach. His eyelids fluttering close, the concubine took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for the horse's bite upon his exposed member. Then, with a fierce tug, Shinno wrenched free from his captors. With aching grace, he fell to his knees, arms raised to the poor colt. As he pulled the animal close to him, Shinno's right hand went to his chest, kneading the area around his nipple. A cry escaped his lips as the colt's mouth closed around that bit of flesh. Although he was in pain, Shinno squeezed his chest, letting his milk flow into the starving colt's mouth.

        Everyone's eyes were wide with shock and amazement as they watched the Emir's concubine nurse the colt from his own breast.

        The tears were streaming down Shinno's lovely brown eyes as he gazed at the stunned Bandit Chief. "There is nothing more you can do to humiliate me," the whore said in deep sorrow. "I've been used in so many ways you just couldn't imagine. I've had men, and even women, force me to rut with animals. This...what you were planning to do...this is not new to me. But none of them was cruel enough to slaughter the mother of a newborn creature, and use the baby's weakness to perform a depraved thing as this. You could do anything you want with me. But don't do this to such an innocent creature." Sobbing, Shinno embraced the colt. "It's cruel, barbaric! No innocent deserves this fate!"

        Before Abdullah could speak, there were frantic cries of "Papa! Papa!" outside the tent. Then, a man barged inside, followed by another bandit much younger than him. Anyone could see that the first interloper had a strong resemblance to the Bandit Chief. However, unlike Abdullah, he was a bit thinner, though still chubby. His face was devoid of the guile present in the Bandit Chief's features. Instead, it was open and honest, clearly showing his worry and concern. The abnormal, involuntary side-to-side movement of his eyes confirmed a mental impairment. To Methos' surprise, this man was an Immortal.

        On the other hand, the younger man was handsome, possessing black hair and sharp black eyes. However, just like his elder, there was concern on his face, particularly directed at the man he was with.

        "Forgive me, my Lord, for this intrusion," the young bandit bowed. "But your son was worried about..."

        "Where's my colt, Papa?" the older man demanded, stomping his feet like a petulant child. "You kept him from me long enough, and I must feed him. He's starving without his Mama."

        "Mikael," Abdullah struggled to be patient. "I want you to go back to your tent. Your father is in conference right now."

        "No, I won't leave! Not until I know what you've done with my horsey! I want to know where he is!"

        "MIKAEL, GO WITH RASHAD RIGHT NOW, BEFORE I LOSE MY PATIENCE WITH YOU!"

        "YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE KILLED HIS MAMA! I WANT MY BABY HORSEY NOW!"

        Shinno was about to interrupt the furious exchange between father and son. Despite his huge bulk, Abdullah swiftly got to his feet and struck his son in the face, sending him sprawling to the ground. At once, Mikael broke into a wail.

        Gesturing to the colt in the whoremaster's arms, the Bandit Chief ordered furiously, "KILL THE COLT!"

        With righteous indignation, Shinno exclaimed, "NO! You will not harm this colt! Can't you see how much your son loves him? What kind of father are you to treat your son in this manner?"

        Abdullah's hands clenched in a fist. Slowly, he looked into the stubborn concubine's eyes. "If I spare the colt's life, what would you give in exchange?"

        "What could a whore like me offer in exchange except for my flesh? You may bed me, Abdullah Bakkar, as much as you want." Shinno gritted his teeth. "And I will show you my face."

        The Bandit Chief thought for a moment. Nodding, he said, "Very well! We have a deal." To his guards, he commanded, "Take the colt back to its pen, and have a tent prepared for our guests."

        "No," the concubine countered. "The colt stays with me and your son until he is strong enough. I will nurse him myself, play surrogate mother to him because he needs it for now. I shall go to your tent instead."

        Methos couldn't believe what he was hearing. Wrenching free from his guards' grasp, he grabbed Shinno's arm. "I won't allow you to do this!"

        Shinno, however, yanked his arm back, glaring fiercely at the ancient. "Better him than you!" His voice was filled with seething hatred.

        The whoremaster's expression softened as he approached Mikael, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder.

        "It's all right now, Mikael," Shinno said reassuringly. "Your colt is fine."

        Sniffling, Mikael peered into those pretty doe eyes. "Really? No one's going to hurt him anymore?"

        "I swear it. In fact, I'll be staying with your and your father for awhile. Would you like that?"

        Mikael eagerly nodded, his eyeballs moving at a more rapid pace in his excitement. "Yes, yes, I would like that very much." He embraced Shinno lovingly, although he stole a fearful glance at his father. "I don't think my Papa loves me anymore."

        Abdullah was about to interrupt, guilty for having hit his son. To his surprise, however, his prisoner declared, "Of course your father loves you! But you barged right in the middle of an important...meeting, and your father was very tense and angry with something I said. You must believe me that he didn't mean to hurt you. We all lose our temper from time to time. Sometimes, we end up lashing out at the people we love. It's regrettable, but it does happen. Please believe me when I say that your father loves you, Mikael. Do not foster ill feelings inside your heart because of this."

        Mikael's lower lip trembled as he turned to his father. "I'm sorry, Papa."

        Abdullah didn't answer, giving his son a warm smile instead. "Son, why don't you show our guest to our tent?" Turning to his son's companion, he requested, "Would you stay for a moment, Rashad?"

        Rashad replied, "If you wish it, my Lord."

        Mikael got to his feet, grinning in relief. He easily picked up the colt in his left arm. Before he could take the concubine's hand, he noticed Shinno's naked and bloodied form. Swiftly, he wrapped his cloak around Shinno's body, pulling the younger man close to him.

        "I'll take care of you," Mikael said happily. "I'll give you a nice bath and some nice clothes." The Bandit Chief's son then led Shinno outside, chattering as he did so. As a precaution, the guards followed after the two men.

        Abdullah motioned to the other two guards to leave them. At first, the bandits hesitated, eyeing Methos warily, but Rashad gave them a reassuring nod. In the end, with a bow, they obeyed their leader, leaving the three men alone.

        With a sigh, Abdullah sagged onto his seat. "This has been a most unusual encounter."

        "This is not unusual for me," the ancient remarked. "The Emir's whore is known for his kind heart. He was well-loved by the Sultan. Recently, he nursed a newborn baby girl when he learned that her mother didn't have milk in her breasts. I am not surprised that he would...do this...even for a starving colt."

        "I could see that you are not pleased with our...arrangement," the Bandit Chief noted, seeing the sharp glare the Immortal was according him.

        "I will not deny it," Methos said bluntly. "For the past month that I've traveled with the caravan, I've gotten to know Shinno very well. I will not allow that he be hurt anymore than he already has."

        "But judging from the concubine's reaction towards you, it seems that you yourself have hurt him. Do you feel something for him, perhaps?"

        The ancient felt uncomfortable at the bandit's astuteness. "What I feel for him is of no importance. He belongs to the Emir. But in the meantime, I will protect him from all who would treat him like a whore." Methos lowered his gaze to hide the anguish in his green gold eyes. "After what I did, it's the least I could do for him."

        Abdullah looked at the Immortal before him. "I will not deter you from your task. Rashad, this man is our guest. See that he is treated well by all."

        "Yes, my Lord." Rashad gestured towards the opening. "Would you please come with me?"

        Despite his initial resentment towards the Bandit Chief, Methos accorded him a gracious bow and exited the tent with Rashad at his side.

        As they walked through the camp, Rashad remarked, "Please do not be angry with my lord. I am certain that he did not mean any harm."

       "Do you think keeping a young man captive and forcing him to bestiality is not 'any harm'?" Methos snapped back. "The man's evil, a debauched pig."

        "I wish I could offer an excuse. Even I was surprised by what you revealed to me. But believe me when I say that he is not an evil man. It's just that, these past few days, things have been weighing heavily upon his shoulders. Not the least of his troubles is his son."

        "Mikael... Yes, I could see that he is not right in the head."

        "He was born this way -- a true innocent. His mother -- my Lord's beloved wife -- passed away after giving birth to Mikael. Mikael himself...he has also proven to be a mystery for all in this camp."

        "What do you mean?" the ancient asked curiously.

        "About the colt's mother..." Rashad began. "The mare was already ill when she gave birth to her little one. Mikael was inside her enclosure. The mare went berserk and trampled him. My Lord thought that his son was dead and, in his grief, he ordered the mare killed. But then, Mikael came back to life. Everyone thought it was a miracle of Allah." Hesitantly, Rashad volunteered, "However, I knew differently."

        Methos glanced down at the hand gripping his. Tattooed on the bandit's left wrist was the insignia of the Watchers.

        Smiling, the ancient said, "Because he is Immortal."

        Rashad blushed a deep scarlet. "Yes, Mikael is Immortal."

        "Does Abdullah know?"

        The young man nodded. "I had to tell him. With Mikael's childlike mind, arrangements must be made to see to his welfare when my Lord is gone."

        Methos found himself lapsing into deep thought. Despite his fears for Shinno's welfare, he discovered that his anger and resentment towards the Bandit Chief had vanished. With Mikael now an Immortal, he could understand the concerns that Abdullah held for his son. Once he's alone, the ancient doubted that the innocent Immortal would last long on this earth.

        Methos laid his hand on Rashad's shoulder. "I'll see what I can do to help," he said in reassurance.

        Rashad smiled. "Thank you. We shall be forever grateful for the assist of the great warrior, Methos."

        The ancient's mind went back to the way Shinno had softened the Bandit Chief's heart with his kindness and concern for the colt and his mentally-impaired son. Now, he was doing the same thing. He wondered if goodness was contagious. It seemed it was. And it felt good.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

 

        Shinno didn't think it would be possible to find a luxury in this small camp in the remote region of the Sahara. But after happy urgings from Mikael for the servants to fill the wooden tub with water, the concubine found his soiled robe hurriedly peeled off, and strong arms lifted him up and dunked him right into the tub. Before he could even react, Mikael removed his veil, clucking all the while at how dirty it was. As Shinno lowered his face into the water, the son of the Bandit Chief dumped the contents of a bottle of lavender-scented oil in the water. Whistling, he proceeded to bathe the concubine's body with floral-scented soap, reveling in the feel of Shinno's luxurious brown hair.

        An hour later, although his bath was finished, Shinno still sat inside the tub, the lower half of his face concealed beneath the water's surface. Looking at him disapprovingly were Mikael and the colt, whose chins were laid on the edge of the tub.

        "Aren't you going to stand up from there?" queried Mikael. "The water's dirty and you'll shrivel up like a prune." The older man's face lit up, raising a finger as a bright idea crossed his mind. "Oh, I know what to do!"

        Reaching down, Mikael pulled out the plug of the tub, eliciting a soft pop. Feeling the water draining out of the tub, Shinno's eyes fell upon Abdullah's beautiful woven rugs getting drenched. Making a mad scramble out of the tub, the whoremaster swiftly plugged up the hole in the side once more before more water could drain out.

        With a low growl, Shinno hastened to wipe the water from the rugs with his discarded robe. "For heaven's sake, Mikael! Have you no care for your father's property or how angry he would be with the servants if he found this mess you made? I just saved you from his anger. You're going to get us into trouble again!"

        However, his scolding was met only with silence. Turning around, Shinno saw Mikael and the colt staring at him, awe written on their faces. It was then that he realized, to his horror, that he wasn't wearing a mask. Slowly, he stood up, about to wrap his wet, long hair over his face.

        But Mikael pleaded, "No! Don't do that!"

        Not knowing what else to do, Shinno released his wet hair, letting it fall down his back.

        A broad, admiring smile formed on Mikael's face. A tear trickled down his cheek as he hugged the colt tenderly.

        "You are so beautiful!" Mikael exclaimed in sincerest praise.

 

        "Aren't you dressed yet?" the Bandit Chief's son asked impatiently, trying to peer on top of the dressing screen.

        "Give me a minute, Mikael!" Shinno answered behind the screen.

        Mikael crossed his arms over his chest and snorted, a pout on his lips. "I never met a man who dressed as slow as you do. You're worse than a girl!" Beside him, the colt whinnied in assent.

        "That's because I want to look special for you." Shyly, the concubine emerged from behind the screen.

        Shinno was dressed in an elegant, flowing caftan of shimmering red silk and satin. The lapel and hem of the garment were embroidered with gold trimmings and pink roses, enclosed by wreaths of green leaves. Embroidered at the back was a beautiful peacock prancing among the rose bushes.

        Mikael was so stunned that the pout was frozen on his lips, his eyes blinking owlishly at the young man.

        Noting the expression on the other's face, Shinno frowned, his head cocked to the side. "Do I look that bad?"

        Hearing that question, Mikael and the colt stared at each other. At once, they shook their heads.

        "No, no! You don't look bad!" The son of the Bandit Chief quickly replied. A dreamy smile forming on his lips, he gushed again, "You are soooo beautiful!"

        Shinno blushed at that heartfelt praise. This was the first time that a man had gazed at him without any lustful intentions, and it was such an immense relief for him. Because of his impairment, Mikael was totally absent of guile or deceit. His words came straight from his heart.

        Mikael giggled. "Your face is all red!"

        The concubine lowered his eyes in embarrassment. Looking down at himself once more, he asked, "Where did you get this caftan, Mikael? It's so lovely. I feel ashamed to be wearing such a fine garment."

        "Oh, don't worry about it!" the Bandit Chief's son said reassuringly. "It belonged to my Mama." Sadness crossed Mikael's features. "I never met her. She died after giving birth to me."

        "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring back bad memories," Shinno offered in sincere apology.

        Again, there's that reassuring grin. "It's all right! I don't think my Mama would mind. Besides, I don't like to see such pretty clothes just tucked away in an old chest."

        "But what about your Papa? He may not want me using his wife's things."

        Mikael took his hand. "Oh, would you stop worrying! I'll take care of Papa!" He urged the concubine to sit down on a cushion, where a small chest lay beside it. "Won't you relax? I want to fix you up and make you look real pretty." Mikael glowered at the colt who trotted towards Shinno. Carefully bending its wobbly knees, it laid its long neck on the whoremaster's lap, gazing longingly at the younger man. "Oh, no you don't, little horsey! I saw what you were doing earlier. Shame on you, baby horse, for feeding on a man!"

        Shinno burst into giggles. "What have you been feeding him anyway, Mikael?"

        "Camel's milk. Little horsey's Mama... My Papa had her killed because she was sick, that she was no longer right in the head. She almost killed me and her baby." Mikael scratched his head and laughed. "But because I'm dumb, I've got a thick skull. Very hard to dent."

        "Mikael, don't say that! You're not dumb!"

        It was the older man's turn to blush. "That's so nice of you to say that!"

        Softly, Shinno put in, "I thought your father had the mare slaughtered because he was planning something bad."

        "Oh, no! Like I said, the colt's Mama was sick."

        "Then that would explain why your little horsey felt feverish in my hands earlier. He might have a touch of his Mama's illness and..."

        "HEY!" Mikael suddenly exclaimed. The man's shifty eyes were focused on the colt, who was nuzzling at Shinno's chest, trying to get the caftan open. "And what are you doing? Bad little horsey!"

        "Do you have a small bowl?" the concubine requested. Rubbing his breast, he said, "I don't think my nipples could take a direct feeding."

        Mikael hastened to obey, going inside the inner chamber. He returned with a bowl in his hands. "What are you going to do?"

        "Just watch." Shinno opened the caftan and let the left sleeve fall from his shoulder, baring his left chest. Positioning the bowl at his breast, he proceeded to squeeze milk out of his tit, slowly filling it.

        The older man's jaw dropped. "That's amazing! How do you do that?"

        "I was given a drug that allows my chest to produce milk, even if I'm a man." The concubine held the bowl before the colt's nose. Sniffing its contents for a moment, the colt raised his head and eagerly lapped up the milk. Shinno ran his fingers through the luxurious, soft red mane. "After this, little one, I'm weaning you off my milk and teach you to drink goat's milk."

        The colt, however, snorted to the contrary.

        Turning to the Bandit Chief's son, Shinno suggested, "You know, Mikael, we must give your darling colt a name."

        Mikael thought for a long while. Shaking his head, he said, "I can't think of a good name."

        It was the whoremaster's turn to lapse into thought. Gazing down once more at the colt's beautiful coat and mane, he exclaimed, "I know what we could call him -- 'Moeru.' It's Japanese for 'flame', and his coat is as red as a flame."

        "That's a wonderful name, and you could also stop calling me 'Mikael.' Only Papa and Rashad call me that during..." The older man cleared his throat and said in a dignified manner, "...FORMAL functions. Everyone in the camp calls me 'Mikey'."

        "Mikey..." the concubine tested the name on his tongue. "I like it very much."

        Remembering something, Mikey frowned at the young man before him. "Wait a minute! You know my name, but I don't know yours."

        "I am known by many names."

        "Is that so? I've never met anyone with many names before. Could you tell me? Please?"

        "Very well. Most of the time, people call me 'Shinno.' It means 'prince' in Japanese."

        "Are you a prince?"

        "No. Not exactly. Sometimes, I am called 'Sanchi.' It was a name given to me by my teacher."

        "What does it mean?"

        "It's the place where I'm from. But in truth, it's the shorter version of what my teacher used to call me -- '_Sukottorando sanchi-jin_'."

        Mikael stuck out his tongue in dismay. "I can't say that. My tongue will get all tied up."

        Shinno laughed. "'Highland'...'Sanchi' means 'Highland.' Because I come from the Highlands, I am '_Sukottorando sanchi-jin_' -- a Highlander."

        "Shinno...Sanchi..." It was Mikey's turn to test the names on his tongue. "It tickles the top part of my mouth," he complained, gesturing to his palate. "Don't you have another name that's easier to say?"

        The concubine paused, thinking for a moment. "I'll tell you my real name, but you must swear never to tell anyone who I really am."

        "Why not?"

        "Did you see that man inside the meeting tent -- the one with fair skin?"

        "You mean Big Nose?"

        The whoremaster wanted to laugh at the way the Bandit Chief's son described the ancient Immortal. "Yes, Mikey. He is not to be trusted. He...he only wants to hurt me."

        Strong arms embraced him as Mikey buried his face in Shinno's hair. "I won't let anyone hurt you. You're my friend. I promise I won't tell anybody what your name is."

        "Outside of this tent, in the presence of everyone else, you must call me Shinno. But when we're alone, like right now, you may call me by my true name."

        "Which is?"

        A moment's silence. Shinno then breathed in deeply. "Duncan.... My name is Duncan."

        "Duncan...I think it's a beautiful name. It means 'brown warrior,' doesn't it?"

        The younger man's voice was nothing more than a whisper when he answered, "Yes." Duncan felt Mikey pull away. Looking up, he beheld Mikey's smiling face and the brush he held in his hands.

        "May I brush your hair, Duncan?" the older man asked eagerly. "It's so nice and soft, so long like a horse's tail. I promise I'll make it real pretty. I have all my Mama's pins and ribbons right here."

        "Would you happen to have a veil?"

        "What for?"

        "Like my name, no one is supposed to see my face. Only the Emir could see my face."

        "Why's that? Strange man, that Emir. I wouldn't hide a face as pretty as yours."

        Duncan beamed at that comment. "But it's a face that could get anyone who beholds it killed."

        "You mean the Emir is going to kill me?" Mikey's eyes were wide with fear. "I'll look for a veil...after I brush your hair." He looked at the concubine with suspicion. "Are you sure you're not just hiding from someone?"

        The whoremaster was taken aback by that question. "Now, why would I want to hide from someone?" he lied between his teeth. "Mikey, I don't want any people to die just because of a stupid reason that they saw my face. Big Nose...he is the Emir's executioner. If he knew that someone saw my face, it's..." Duncan made a slashing gesture across his throat.

        At once, Mikey covered his eyes, shaking his head. "No, no, no! I didn't see your face! I don't know your face! That's the truth and nothing but the truth! Because Mikey never lies!"

        "Yes, because Mikey is a good boy, and he knows how important it is to keep a secret AND a promise."

        "That's true! That's me -- Mikey, the good boy!" Frowning, he queried, "Who is Big Nose anyway? And why is his skin so white?"

        "You ask so many questions, do you know that, Mikey?"

        "Sorry," the son of the Bandit Chief said sheepishly. "Just curious, that's all." Mikey sat down behind Duncan and began brushing his hair with gentle strokes. He found himself glancing down at Moeru, who was snoring lightly on Duncan's lap. Unable to control himself, he queried, "What does your milk taste like?"

        "I'm told it's sweet." The whoremaster gave the older man a side glance. "If you like, I could..."

        "But I'm not a baby anymore. At least, that's what my Papa's been telling me."

        "What do you think you are, Mikey?"

        Duncan smiled at the sound of those shy giggles. "A baby," Mikey answered. "A BIIIGGGG baby!"

        "Then, let's pretend that you're MY baby."

        "You don't mind?" he peered at the concubine's face.

        "No," said Duncan fondly. "I don't mind at all."

 

        Abdullah Bakkar was panting for breath as he plodded to his tent. He knew he was overweight, that it was putting a strain on his heart. Time and time again, Rashad had begged him to engage in some form of activity, so that he could lose weight. But he just didn't have the energy for it, content to let his men do the work for him. He had been this way since his wife passed away. While other men found solace in drink, he found it instead in eating. Thankfully, his band of fierce bandits understood his grief and his pains of having a simpleton for a son. Other men would've overthrown him and taken over as leader. But they were loyal, knowing that despite this physical incapacity, his mind remained sharp. They knew that, one day, their leader would overcome his troubles and become the man he once was.

        The problem was he wasn't sure if he could still become the warrior he had been. All the years of gluttony and despondency has wreaked its toll upon his health. He was also prone to mood swings and bouts of foul temper. It disturbed him deeply the way he had struck his son earlier. It had to take a mere whore to point out his weakness right in his face.

        What was it about the Emir's concubine that had aroused such anger in him? He was not an evil man to force perversions upon a captive. True, he had bedded some of their male prisoners. But he never contemplated forcing them to perform bestial acts. So why now, and why with the Emir's prized whore? Was it because of the simple fact that it was a lowly slave that had showed him his shortcomings?

        Before he could enter his tent, Abdullah heard someone singing. Quietly, he went inside, only to find the receiving chamber empty. The singing was coming from the inner chamber. Raising the flap a bit, Abdullah peeked inside.

        "Merida?" the Bandit Chief gasped out in disbelief at the sight of the beautiful angel sitting within, his slumbering son suckling at a delightful rose pink nipple, the colt sleeping at their feet. For a moment, Abdullah thought it was his dead wife returned to him.

        However, looking closely, he saw that his angel was, in fact, a very handsome young man. Beautiful of face, high cheekbones, full lips curled up in a gentle smile, sweet doe eyes capped by long lashes gazing lovingly at the sleeping man in his arms... Abdullah realized he was staring at the Emir's whore!

        The pain of grief and disappointment lanced through his heart. With a whimper, he stumbled away, gripping his chest tightly. As he collapsed onto the cushions, the Bandit Chief barely heard the rustle of canvas behind him. He just found his lovely angel looking down at him with concern, a hand rubbing over his heart.

        Pointing to his rack of herbs, Abdullah said hoarsely, "My medicine! The green vial! Please!"

        Swiftly, the concubine took the small bottle. With much effort, he raised the Bandit Chief in his arms, letting Abdullah take a sip from the vial. The older man flopped back down on the cushions, waiting for the pain to ebb.

        The whore wiped the Bandit Chief's sweaty brow with a gentle palm. "Are you all right, my Lord? Perhaps I should give you another medicine." The worry in his voice was genuine.

        "No..." Abdullah struggled to remember the concubine's name. "Shinno...yes, that's your name. Shinno..." He raised trembling arms to the whoremaster. "Would you just hold me? Please?"

        Shinno chuckled at that entreaty, but did as he was requested, embracing the Bandit Chief tenderly.

        "Sleep now, my Lord. Rest," Shinno said softly. "The day is still long and your people could wait until you are well. Have no fear. I will watch over you."

        Abdullah gazed in wonder at the concubine. "After what I almost did to you, why are you so kind to me?"

        "Your son... An evil man will not have the patience or the loving heart to care for such an innocent, sweet soul." Shinno gave a nonchalant shrug, grinning. "Besides, we have a deal, remember?"

        There was a slight pain in the Bandit Chief's heart as he laughed. "I don't think I could be able to perform."

        Abdullah was surprised by the answer of the Emir's whore. "I would take it as an insult if you couldn't. I would happily do this for you, Abdullah Bakkar, and for the sake of your beloved son. You've lived in the darkness long enough. Tonight, let me show you how it feels to be a man again."


	3. Chapter 3

 

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

 

"Where is Shinno?"

        "In my tent. Where else should he be?"

        Methos' eyes narrowed at the Bandit Chief sitting beside him before the campfire.

        Abdullah had arranged a small feast -- to honor his guests, so he told the Immortal. However, Methos could hardly partake of the sumptuous meal before him, despite Rashad's urgings. Neither could he drink the wine that was poured into his cup, nor bring himself to respond to the boisterous banter of the bandits, who continued to give his back a good-natured pounding.

        "Did you bed him?" Methos gave voice to the grave concern inside his heart. "I warned you what could happen if you ever touched him."

        The Bandit Chief, however, merely laughed off the ancient's threat. "My dear Methos! For as long as you are in my domain, I will do whatever I want with him."

        Methos was about to say more when a swift kick landed on his butt.

        "Owww!" he cried, rubbing his aching bum. Whirling around to face his assailant, Methos beheld Abdullah's son Mikael leading the Emir's concubine towards the campfire. Shinno's wrists were secured by golden shackles linked to a chain leash that Mikael held in his hand.

        The whoremaster was elegantly dressed in a deep blue caftan of silk and satin, with swimming fish of many colors and varieties embroidered all over. His hair was left flowing free behind his back, a rosebud pin holding some strands back from his right temple. Shinno's lovely eyes, the only things visible on his face because of a blue veil, were shaded with kohl. As he walked, the slit of the caftan parted to reveal long, graceful legs, with jeweled bands at his ankles and strap sandals on his feet. Following behind him was the colt. Methos didn't know who it was that kicked him because all three newcomers were flashing daggers at him from their eyes. The two men settled down on either side of Abdullah, with the colt plopping down on the ground as well with his head laid on the concubine's lap.

        With his eyes focused on the beautiful form of the whoremaster, the ancient failed to notice the surprised expression on the face of the Bandit Chief.

        "What are you doing here, my son?" Abdullah queried. "Did I not tell you to stay in our tent and watch over our sweet desert flower here?"

        "I wanted to see if you're all right, Papa." Mikael grinned as he raised the chain. "Besides, our prisoner won't be going anywhere."

        The Bandit Chief laughed, raising a greasy goat's leg to his smacking lips. "Good idea, Mikael! Excellent!"

        This time, Methos saw Shinno's head whip to the side to give the leader of the bandits a scolding glare. At once, like a chastened child, Abdullah lowered the goat's leg back on the platter, grinning sheepishly.

        "Haven't you had enough yet?" asked Mikael. "It's too late and..." He opened his mouth and yawned, rubbing his eyes. "I want to get some sleep."

        "But I still have a guest," Abdullah gestured helplessly to the ancient.

        Turning to Methos, Mikael said icily, "I'm sleepy, and I want my Papa with me. He needs to sleep too."

        "Forgive me, young Master," the ancient began, undaunted. "There are still many things we have to talk about -- like the important details of this kidnapping plot. Who ordered the abduction of the Emir's concubine? How much is your father going to be paid for successfully doing so?" Methos gave the young Immortal a level glower. "Most important of all, I wish to discuss the sleeping arrangements. It is my duty to protect Shinno, and I demand that he stay in my tent with me."

        As the ancient looked on in surprise, Mikael wrapped his arms protectively around the whoremaster. "No, I don't like! He's not going with you!" The colt had also raised its head, a semblance of a menacing growl issuing from its throat.

        But Methos said stubbornly, "No! I'm sorry, but Shinno is staying with me. His...well-being...is my concern."

        To everyone's shock, Shinno got to his feet. Furious, he rounded on the Immortal. "Well-being? Since when have you made my well-being your concern? I will choose whose tent I will stay in, and it will never be yours!"

        The ancient stared aghast at the younger man. Standing, he exclaimed, "Damn it, Shinno! This is not the time to be stubborn! Do you know what he intends to do with you?"

        "The same thing you and Kamir did to me five days ago. This time, however, I have a choice. I would rather bed a bandit like Abdullah than a betrayer like you." Shinno gazed down at the speechless Bandit Chief. "Your son is right, my Lord. We must return to our tent. We still have our little arrangement." Whispering in Abdullah's ear, he added, "And you're not yet well. Please! Your son worries about you. I, too, worry for you."

        The Bandit Chief saw the concern in the concubine's expressive brown eyes. In reply, he simply nodded his head. With the help of Shinno and Mikael, Abdullah stood up.

        "I'm afraid I must bid you good night, Horseman," he said with a polite bow to the Immortal. "I must accede to the wishes of my son and the Emir's...beloved. We shall discuss this tomorrow. Good night, Methos!"

        As the three men made to walk past the ancient, Methos blocked their path. "No, Abdullah! I won't allow this!"

        Thinking their leader was in trouble, the bandits readied their swords. But the sharpness in Shinno's words made them sheathe their blades.

        "If you don't get out of our way," the whoremaster said threateningly, "you'll regret it."

        "What do you intend to do -- fight me?" Methos exclaimed mockingly. "In case you've forgotten, my student, we haven't finished our lessons. You don't stand a chance of winning against me."

        Suddenly, something warm, wet and smelly gushed down his leg. Methos looked down in disgust to find the snickering colt pissing on his leg. Cursing out loud, he started stomping his feet, shaking the drips off to no avail. His trousers were drenched with urine.

        "Give it up, friend Methos," he heard Rashad say beside him. "You've lost this round."

        Methos turned to watch as Abdullah, Mikael and Shinno made their way through the camp, heading towards their tent, the colt trotting at their heels.

        "But there's always tomorrow," said Methos, gazing longingly at Shinno. "There's always tomorrow."

 

        "I'll see you tomorrow, my sweet," Duncan whispered, bestowing a kiss upon Mikey's brow as he tucked him and the colt in with a blanket. To his surprise, Moeru even raised his head and bussed the whoremaster on the lips. With a disgusted snort, Mikey pulled the blanket over the colt's head, eliciting a whinny of protest from the animal.

        A pout formed on Mikey's lips. "Duncan, why don't you sleep here with us? There's plenty of room."

        Duncan ran his fingers over the older man's close-cropped mane. "Your father needs me, Mikey. I told you what happened earlier. I have to be with him. Do you understand?"

        "I think so. But it's all right. There's always tomorrow."

        "Yes, and I promise I'll sleep with you and Moeru tomorrow night."

        Mikey grinned slyly. "We sure showed him, didn't we, Duncan!"

        The concubine hugged Mikey lovingly, smiling. "Yes, Mikey. We certainly did." Kissing the older man's cheek, he whispered, "Good night, Mikey."

        "Night, Duncan," said Mikey, settling down to sleep.

        Seeing that the Bandit Chief's son was well, at least for the night, Duncan stood up and closed the flap behind him. He then entered the inner chamber, where Abdullah was seated on the cushions waiting for him.

        "Your son is sleeping at last, my Lord," he announced, removing the veil from his face. "You should consider my giving the colt a bath if he's going to be sleeping with Mikey, or else you'll find fleas and gnats in your sleeping quarters."

        There was no reply from the Bandit Chief. Cocking his head to the side, he saw Abdullah watching him, a strange expression on his face.

        "My Lord?" Duncan asked curiously. "Is something wrong?"

        Abdullah shook his head, as if waking from a dream state. "For a moment, when you walked into my chamber, I thought you were... No, it's not important."

        "Who did you think I was?"

        The Bandit Chief lowered his gaze before the concubine could see the tears welling up in his eyes. "Someone I had loved more than life itself. Someone I had lost so soon."

        Duncan sensed the grief in Abdullah. Kneeling, he cupped the bandit's face and bade him to look at him. "How long have you held this pain inside your heart? Too long I should think, since Mikey is now a grown man, despite his child's mind. Have you not found someone who could fill the emptiness?"

        Abdullah found himself admitting, "No. She will be the only one for me."

        "And, in doing so, you have closed your heart to everyone who cares for you -- your men and especially your son. What they feel for you is love and respect. Perhaps not the same as what was given to you by your lost beloved. But it is also a kind of love that deserves to be reciprocated." Duncan gave the Bandit Chief a gentle smile. "Can you not find solace in the little love that they give you? After all, it's better to know love than not at all."

        The Bandit Chief gazed at the young man in awe. "That is what my beloved Merida always tells me. But..." He gave Duncan a curious glance. "You speak as though you have not known love."

        "If there had been love in my life, I do not remember it now. I've lived with pain for far too long." The concubine shook his head. "But enough of the talk. I want to cheer you up -- let you know how it feels to be loved and to love again."

        Duncan hastened to remove Abdullah's clothing. The bandit, however, stayed his hands. "No, Shinno."

        "Why, my Lord?" the young man asked in dismay. "Am I not appealing enough for you?"

        "On the contrary, in your face, in your beautiful eyes, I see my sweet Merida. How could I not want you? In truth, I wish I had never beheld your face and seen you letting my son suckle upon your breast. All I want is to kiss you and touch you and possess you utterly."

        "Then, why don't you?"

        "Because I do not want to cause you pain. Contrary to what happened earlier, I never force my will upon another. If we are to do this, I prefer that you are willing, and that you want me as much as I want you." Abdullah gestured to his bulky form. "I don't think you'd like to make love to a pig...like me."

        "That's where you're wrong." Duncan stood up. With a graceful jerk of shoulders and hips, he let the caftan slip down his body. Stepping out of the pool of discarded clothing, he knelt down once more before Abdullah. With the Bandit Chief in awe of the lovely young man before him, the concubine used this momentary distraction to strip the older man of his garments. "I've known only three men with whom I was willing to make love to. The first is the Sultan. The second is...someone...whom I thought had changed and who loved me just as much as I love him. But...he betrayed me in the end."

        Abdullah didn't even have to guess who this second man was. He asked breathlessly, "And the third..."

        Smiling, Duncan reached between Abdullah's fat thighs to free his cock and pendulous scrotum. Inching forward, like a wolf eyeing its prey, he answered, "Through your son, through your heartfelt words, I've seen the man you truly are. It would please me greatly, Abdullah Bakkar, to make love to you."

        The Bandit Chief's eyes snapped wide open as the concubine swooped down and captured his long neglected cock between his full, luscious lips.

 

        Methos emerged from his tent clean and refreshed after a cool bath. But worry for the Emir's whore had his heart pounding like a hammer in his chest. That, and anger at Shinno's obvious rejection of him.

_        Damn him!_ the ancient thought angrily. _How could he choose that desert boar over me!_

        But then again, didn't Shinno himself reveal to him the reason for his choice?

_        "I would rather bed a bandit like Abdullah than a betrayer like you!"_

        "NO!" Methos exclaimed out loud, quickening his pace, hoping against all hope that he would reach Shinno in time. _I can't let you do this, Shinno! Certainly not out of anger and revenge for what I've done to you. You hurt yourself if you do it. Damn it, Shinno! You hurt ME! Just a few words, that's all I need. You must give me a chance to explain!_

        However, as he neared the Bandit Chief's tent, the Immortal could hear...noises...emanating from within, getting louder and louder as he came closer. Before he could even enter the tent, the ancient came to a dead halt at the sight he beheld.

        The bright lamp inside the tent cast the shadows of the two men coupling within upon the canvas. Shinno's lithe silhouette, straddling the bandit's body, was unmistakable. To Methos, the concubine looked as if he were riding a Bactrian camel, his body bouncing up and down, as Abdullah thrust upwards into his sweet, willing flesh. As the ancient watched, the Bandit Chief raised his hands to fondle Shinno's delectable nipples, who thrust his chest forward even more. Sitting up, Abdullah embraced the younger man, hungrily pressing his face to that chest. Methos didn't even have to guess what the bandit was doing. He himself could never resist taking Shinno's milk-laden nipples between his lips.

        But what hurt Methos the most were those sounds. The last time he heard those ecstatic moans and cries was when Shinno was lying in his arms. To hear those sounds being elicited from the concubine's lips by another man was like an arrow being shot right through his heart.

        Deeply saddened, Methos walked away, shoulders hunched. He was unaware that tears were streaming down his cheeks.

_        "I would rather bed a bandit like Abdullah than a betrayer like you!"_

        Methos knew, that because of what he had done, he had lost his chance for happiness and love. And he has only himself to blame for that.

 

        A few hours later, Duncan and Abdullah lay arm in arm on the rug. Although asleep, like an infant, the Bandit Chief was suckling upon the concubine's rose-hued nipple.

        Duncan gazed at the glow of the flickering flame of the lamp upon the canvas. But his mind brought him outside the tent, where he knew someone had been watching him earlier as he made love to Abdullah.

_        I hope you enjoyed the show, Methos,_ he thought bitterly. _But that won't be the last. I want you to see exactly what you'll be missing._

        But tears welled up in his eyes. With a quiet sob, Duncan turned on his side and embraced the older man. Despite his angry mental pronouncements, his heart spoke otherwise.

_        Oh, Methos! What I would give that this were you lying in my arms and feeding upon my breast! How I wish this were you instead of another man!_

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

 

_        Kata_...The Japanese word for "pattern." There's a pattern for life and there's a pattern for death. Katas of _sei _and _shi _respectively. All men live close to the edge, walking an inch from the precipice that led to Death's domain. There were a few hardy risk takers...like the bandits, like Abdullah Bakkar himself -- who could either die from a sword's thrust or an executioner's axe, or if he persists in his gluttonous ways, heart failure. Then, there's the ancient Immortal Methos -- he who once was Death personified. No one knew death more than Death himself. Of course, the knowledge of death went hand in hand with the knowledge of life. Which was why Methos avoided any occasions for death to happen. He clung to life with the tenacity of a dying man. After living millennia on this Earth, he knew how young the planet still was. There's still a lot to see, places to go, people to know and make amends with. So many lives still to live. For him, the weaving of the tapestry of life was far from over.

        Sitting on an outcrop of rock overlooking the bandits' camp, Methos watched in silence as a new pattern was being woven in the lives of these hooligans of the desert.

        It began with a protesting Abdullah being poked and prodded into the training enclosure by a determined Mikael and his ever faithful colt, Moeru. The Bandit Chief was dressed in a loose shirt and trousers. From the look on Abdullah's face, the Immortal knew that he was not looking forward to the training session ahead of him. Still, Mikael gave him a reassuring smile as he sat on a stool at the edge of the enclosure with Moeru at his feet.

        Methos felt his heart skip a beat when Abdullah's trainer finally appeared.

        "Shinno..." he breathed the concubine's name with sheer longing.

        The whoremaster was similarly dressed as the Bandit Chief. His long brown hair was covered by a kaffiyah, the lower half of his face by a scarf of black silk. The concubine approached Abdullah, who spoke his apprehensions to the younger man. Shinno simply took the Bandit Chief's hands and squeezed them in reassurance.

        Methos noticed Rashad's approach out of the corner of his eye. Sitting beside the ancient, he asked, "What's going on?"

        The Immortal shrugged. "I have no idea."

        Taking his place at Abdullah's side, Shinno braced his long legs apart, murmuring a few words of encouragement as he did so. As Methos and Rashad watched, the whoremaster began a seemingly graceful dance of waving hands and arms and the slow stepping and raising of feet. Abdullah made grudging attempts to follow the younger man's movements. The ancient, however, knew that it was not a dance at all. _Tai chi_...a form of martial arts that helps condition the heart as well as the muscles grown lax from disuse.

        "Are they dancing?" Rashad queried again in hushed tones.

        "Not really," Methos replied. "I think Shinno wants to bring your Master back into shape."

        "I don't think it will work," the young Watcher commented dubiously. "Abdullah has been known to strongly back out of any form of exercise."

        The ancient grinned. "Well, he hasn't met a man with a strong determination like Shinno before."

        In a few short minutes, the Bandit Chief shook his head, panting for breath. With a weary wave of his hand, Abdullah hobbled off, a hand on his back. With a growl of mild exasperation, Shinno hurried after him, at the same time that Mikael and Moeru blocked the bandit's path. The three men started a heated discussion, wherein Abdullah's voice was slowly getting louder and louder. Out of curiosity, the bandits, who were near the area, started taking seats on the rickety fence to watch the goings-on. Before the shocked eyes of everyone, Shinno shrugged off his clothes, leaving only the loin wrap around his waist. Without saying another word, the young man launched into a full martial arts kata.

        Methos gazed appreciatively at Shinno. This was the first time he saw the concubine's body in broad daylight, and it caused his mouth to water and longing to rise inside his heart.

        Shinno was beauty and menace personified. Every single movement was fluid and graceful, but well-toned muscles revealed his alertness, ready to spring or to flee at the first sign of danger. The bandits already mistook the concubine's moves for a dance, humming a tune along. However, if they only had looked more closely, they would have seen that Shinno's right hand was curled in a loose fist, as though he held something in his hand. His sword, perhaps? Methos readily made up his mind about talking to Abdullah to allow him to continue to teach Shinno the art of the sword. Seeing the Bandit Chief and his son join the whoremaster in his katas, he had no doubt that Abdullah will give him his permission.

        Abdullah's movements were more animated now. Given the state of Shinno's near undress, Methos knew he would be just as inspired. In fact, he would be more than inspired. Oh, the things he could've done if only he hadn't betrayed the concubine's trust! Perhaps, by this time, he and Shinno were at his home, where they would've lived happily ever after.

        If only he hadn't broken his promise...

        "Methos?" Rashad's voice interrupted his musings.

        The ancient at once saw that everyone had left the enclosure, considerable time having passed by. Methos sighed.

        "You were deep in thought, my friend," the Watcher observed. "What were you thinking about?"

        Methos answered, "My greatest regret, Rashad. My greatest regret."

 

        "Why are you smiling, Little Prince?" Abdullah asked the concubine teasingly, seeing the rather smug expression on his face.

        Duncan was seated inside a tub of cool water, soap bubbles floating around him. His relaxed mind had returned him to that invigorating exercise in the training enclosure. He knew that Methos had been watching him earlier, that's why he had, at the spur of the moment, decided to remove his clothes.

        Before the Bandit Chief brought him out of his thoughts, Duncan had been thinking, _Hope you liked what you saw, Methos, because that's all you're ever going to get._

        Cocking his head up at Abdullah, the whoremaster answered, "It's nothing really." Smiling meaningfully, Duncan said, "I enjoyed our exercise this morning, my Lord. I should have started it two days ago. You'll see. Before this week is over, you'll begin to feel a whole lot better once some of that excess weight is gone. Perhaps, if Allah allows that I stay here for a much longer time, I'll have you handsome and trim in no time."

        "I find your deep concern for me highly suspicious," Abdullah raised a teasing eyebrow up. "Surely you are not planning to escape, are you?"

        Duncan sombered up immediately. "You wound me with that question. If I escape, where would I go? Certainly not in the desert." Lowering his gaze, the concubine admitted, "I don't want to leave this place, neither did I desire to leave all those lands I visited during my travels. Anywhere would be preferable to the Emir's domain." He looked at the Bandit Chief with worry in his brown eyes. "This man who told you to abduct me...who is he?"

        "I'm not at liberty to say. He has sworn me to silence."

        "Could you at least please tell me what kind of man he is? Is he the type of man who would... Would he care for me? Would he...love...me?"

        At that moment, Abdullah could see for himself how much the younger man had suffered, to be this desperate to find another who would treat him with love and kindness. As much as he wanted to reassure the concubine, he knew he had to speak truth.

        "Forgive me," the Bandit Chief shook his head, "but he only desires you."

        Duncan was saddened by that answer. "I should've guessed. When am I going to learn? Nothing's going to change. I only hurt myself by hoping for too much."

        "You should never give up hope, Shinno. The change will come. You only have to wait."

        "But for how long?"

        "Patience is a virtue, Little Prince. Don't worry. We'll think of something."

        The whoremaster looked at the older man with suspicion. "'We'? What do you mean 'we'?"

        "Like I said," Abdullah replied with a smile, "we'll think of something."

        Suddenly, Duncan stood up from the tub, water streaming down his gold-toned skin. "No!" he exclaimed. "You will not do anything! I will not have my friends die because of me! I won't! I WON'T!"

        Abdullah gripped the upper arms of the panicky young man. "Shinno, you cannot face this alone. You need help. You must let me help you!"

        But the concubine vehemently shook his head. "No! I won't allow it! My friends...everyone I care for...I always lose them in the end." Duncan embraced Abdullah tightly. "Hold me, my Lord. Please hold me. A little comfort...that is all I need."

        Not knowing what else to do, the Bandit Chief complied with the whoremaster's wish, hugging him. To his surprise, he felt soft lips press on his cheek and neck.

        "Shinno?" Abdullah asked, his voice trembling.

        "Please don't speak," Duncan whispered. "Do what you will with me."

        Nodding, the Bandit Chief lifted the young man in his arms and carried him inside the inner chamber.

 

_        "Ooh...hunh...o-oh...hmmm..."_

_        Duncan held on to the man above him, whose thrusts were coming hard and fast. His long legs were spread in a near split to accommodate Abdullah's bulk. Ravenous lips suckled the essence from his breast._

_        Their coupling was intense as they drew themselves further upward to the peak of desire._

_        However, as they neared completion, the concubine did not notice that his vision was slowly fading away. When orgasm was achieved, there was a bright flash that Duncan snapped his eyes shut. He waited for the waves of pleasure to abate before daring to open them again._

_        The sight that greeted him caused a gasp to escape from his lips and his heart to skip a beat._

_        "Methos?" A tear of joy trickled from the whoremaster's eye, beholding the handsome, smiling face of the ancient Immortal._

_        Methos bent down and kissed him tenderly. Pulling away, he raised a beckoning hand to Duncan. "Come with me, Shinno! Let me take you away. I swear I will not hurt you again."_

_        "Methos..." Slowly, the concubine reached out, giving in to the yearning of his heart, his fingers closing around the Immortal's hand._

_        Before he knew what was happening, the ancient pulled him to his feet in a strong, sweeping motion that nearly caused him to stumble. As he braced his legs to stop himself from falling, Duncan suddenly found himself enveloped by darkness. Methos had disappeared._

_        Looking around him in horror and growing panic, voices began speaking in the black that was his memory._

_        "They start 'em young, don't they."_

_        "What do you expect? Like mother, like son."_

_        "He's very pretty for a little boy. A born catamite."_

_        "A whore."_

_        "Yes, a whore indeed."_

_        "A WHORE!"_

_        Duncan clapped his hands over his ears to block out those hateful words, shaking his head. "NO! STOP IT! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! I'M NOT A WHORE!"_

_        Suddenly, there was the sound of soft, shuffling bare feet behind him. The whoremaster wanted to run, but terror had frozen him in place. Tears streamed down his cheeks as many pairs of icy, clawed hands caressed his body._

_        "Pretty!" two sinuous, evil voices - one male, the other female - whispered in his ear. "So pretty, Little Whore."_

        "NOOO!" Duncan screamed to wakefulness.

        "Shinno, Shinno!" Abdullah quickly sat up, embracing the younger man who was shaking all over, his body drenched with sweat. "You had a bad dream!"

        Terrified, the concubine couldn't speak, still trapped in the domain of that being in his dream.

        Having heard Duncan's scream, Mikey barged into the chamber, with Moeru trotting behind him. "Papa? What's wrong? Who cried out?" Seeing how pale the whoremaster was, he exclaimed, "What happened to Shinno?"

        "He had a very bad dream, son."

        Falling to his knees before the concubine, Mikey wiped Duncan's tears away with his palms, cooing softly, "Please don't cry, Shinno. Mikey, Papa and Morrie are here now to keep you safe from the big bad dream monster."

        Duncan blinked once then twice, confusion settling in. "Morrie?"

        The colt snickered his distaste at that name, front teeth bared and tongue lolling out.

        "Who else but our little fire?" Mikey declared. "Good ole Moeru! But I thought he deserved a good nickname."

        Duncan just found himself bursting into relieved laughter. Hugging the colt, he said, "So you're Morrie now? It's a pretty name, Moeru. A name filled with love." For a few minutes, he simply held on to Moeru, not at all minding the fact that the colt was taking advantage of their position to lap up the spilled milk from his chest, teeth nipping at a tit.

        When he looked up, Duncan saw Abdullah and Mikey gazing back at him with love and concern in their eyes. He remembered how the Bandit Chief had offered to help him. As much as he was tempted, it was an offer he must refuse. So many lives had been lost...as well as one true love, if that terrible "daymare" had been any indication. If anything should happen to the Bandit Chief and his son, the guilt would surely kill him.

        "Shinno?" Abdullah queried gently, conveying his worry clearly in his words and on his face. "How are you feeling?"

        Duncan laid his cheek on the tuft of soft white hair on Moeru's brow. "I'm fine, my Lord and my beloved Mikey. Thanks to you."

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

 

        Methos was hunched over his journal. The torn pages beside him were testament to his failed attempts at capturing Shinno's mysterious face on paper. Engrossed as he was in what he was doing, the ancient did not notice Abdullah enter his tent. The Bandit Chief smiled as he peered over the Immortal's shoulder.

_        You have no idea just how close you are, my friend,_ he thought to himself, seeing the errors in Methos' sketch. Still, the concubine's beauty shone through, despite the imperfections in the drawing. Abdullah was greatly tempted to point the errors out to him.

        As he straightened up, his form blocked out the light of the sole lamp inside the tent. Methos literally jumped to his feet, the journal falling, pages down, on the mat, picking up his sword as he did so. Seeing that it was the Bandit Chief, he dropped his hands and the weapon to his sides.

        "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to sneak up on people?" Methos snarled the question. He was not really angry with the Bandit Chief, but more with himself. Letting his guard down like that was sheer carelessness that could get him killed. Then, there was also the matter of invasion of his privacy.

        Abdullah gave him an apologetic bow. "Forgive me, my friend. I came because I wanted to speak with you in private."

        Methos softened at that polite request. Gesturing to a cushion, he said, "Please! Have a seat. _Mi casa es su casa._"

        Groaning out loud and joints creaking and popping, the Bandit Chief plopped down on the cushion, a sheepish grin on his face. "It seems my body no longer agrees with such vigorous exercise."

        "So I've noticed earlier," Methos remarked. Suppressing his smirk, he added with as much honesty as he could muster, "But it would do you a lot of good."

        "So I've heard. I was against it in the beginning, but it's difficult to turn down Shinno."

        The ancient nodded thoughtfully, remembering how the whoremaster had convinced him to teach him the art of the sword. Once he sets his mind to it, Shinno always gets what he wants…with the notable exception of his freedom.

        "Yes, that's true," put in Methos softly. "But he has your best interests at heart. He wouldn't insist on it if it were not good for you. Shinno…he's known to put the concerns of others above his own."

        "Even though he is the more unfortunate soul." Abdullah gave the ancient a curious glance. "You seem to know him very well."

        Images of that tragic night in Kamir's tent came back to him. Methos closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. "Not well enough, I should think, that I don't know how to… That I don't remember…" In his mind, he spoke the conclusion. _I don't know how to love him. I don't remember that first time that I had betrayed him._

        "Is this the reason why you've been avoiding Shinno? For awhile there, I thought you were simply a pitiful excuse for a bodyguard."

        "If I were a poor bodyguard, I would never have pursued him here. No, my Lord, I know when someone does not want me around."

        "And you don't like it." It was not a question.

        "I would be lying if I say otherwise."

        "It seems to me you care for him a great deal."

        Methos chose to keep silent.

        "If you wish," Abdullah began, eyeing the Immortal closely, "I could arrange it that both of you could speak in private."

        The ancient looked at the Bandit Chief suspiciously. "Why would you want to do that for me?"

        "In truth, I don't. In fact, I even see you as a rival."

        "Me?" Methos blurted out in disbelief. "A rival?"

        "Are you blind that you don't see the deep affection that Shinno obviously has for you?"

        "But his hate for me runs much deeper."

        "Hate is but a disguise to hide what is truly inside one's heart. It is a disguise that could be shed by an act of repentance and love."

        "No," the ancient countered with a sorrowful shake of his head. "What I've done to him…it could not be forgiven."

        "Are you telling me that you are giving up the fight so easily?"

        "Listen to me, my Lord. Even if by some miracle of Allah Shinno does learn to forgive me, he could never be mine. He belongs to Emir Zaid al-Bahir. We are both fools to dare to love the concubine of a powerful man."

        "A fool I may be, but certainly not a coward like you." Abdullah's eyes narrowed into slits, but they held a sharp glint inside them. "As we speak, my men are heading out to meet and dispatch the man who ordered Shinno's abduction. If they do not succeed, at least they would've delayed him enough for me to figure out a way to help Shinno escape."

        "Even if you do get rid of this mysterious mastermind, what are you going to do about the Emir?"

        There was a moment's silence as the Bandit Chief pondered on whether to answer Methos' question or not. "I never told this to anyone, not even my son," Abdullah ultimately replied. "The first time I saw Shinno, I thought he was my wife Merida come back to life. In the three short days that I've come to know him, he has returned me to the land of the living. He made me see the value of having a family. He helped me to regain my manhood."

        "He could only just be using you so that he could be free of the Emir," Methos suggested, with a trace of bitterness and envy in his words.

        "Shinno is not that kind of man," Abdullah defended the concubine. "You and I know that very well. He said he didn't want my help, that he didn't want any of his friends to die because of him. But I can't not help him."

        The ancient frowned, unsure of where this conversation was leading. "I find this very confusing, my Lord. What are you planning to do?"

        "There is only way to free Shinno from the Emir. Methos, it is my intention to marry him."

        Hearing this, Methos stared at the Bandit Chief in shock.

        "I love him, and it's not just because he reminds me so much of Merida. In Shinno, I found the person I would wish to share the rest of my life with. There's also the matter that he adores my son, despite his being a simpleton. He would let no harm come to Mikael." Abdullah stood up. "However, there is an obstacle to my plan. Although he is kind to me and generous with his…affections, he does not love me. I cannot marry him if his heart belongs to another."

        The ancient was stunned at this revelation. At first, he could not speak. Surely, the Bandit Chief was mistaken. It was not true that Shinno loved him, not after the cruelty he had inflicted upon the whoremaster.

        "I will tell Shinno to go to you," continued Abdullah, "let the two of you sort your feelings for each other out."

        "You risk losing him with this move," Methos pointed the fact out to him.

        "I know, but I have hate on my side. Love and hate…we shall see which is stronger." Abdullah let out a sigh. "It's been a long time since I faced a challenge of the heart. Whatever the outcome, I will see it through to the very end. In the meantime…" A dreamy smile formed on the bandit's face. "I will continue to enjoy the lavish attention that Shinno showers upon me and my son."

        "And I know that you will continue to do so till the end of your days." The Immortal firmly told the Bandit Chief, "This is a fight that I am destined to lose. Even if you command him, Shinno will never come to me."

        "If I am unsuccessful in convincing him, then it is you who must go to him. Methos, do you not have a card in your favor? Surely there must be something that Shinno wants from you. I give him comfort and protection, and a bit of love, because that is what he wants from me. What do you have that could top what I had given him?"

        Methos lowered his eyes to the fallen journal. "There is nothing I could give him, except pain and heartbreak."

        Abdullah shook his head in dismay. "And I thought you would make a worthy rival." Looking at the journal as well, he remarked sadly, "I pity you, Methos. Up to now, you still do not know the beautiful angel that you are letting slip through your fingers."

        The ancient's head snapped up at that comment. Before he could pose a question, the Bandit Chief left his tent without saying another word.

_        "You still do not know the beautiful angel that you are letting slip through your fingers."_

        "No, it can't be!" Methos gasped in shock. "Abdullah couldn't have seen Shinno's face!"

        However, it was very obvious to him that the man HAD seen the concubine's face. Perhaps even Mikael as well. Shinno trusted the two men. Why should he not remove his veil for them?

        Furious and seething with jealousy, Methos grabbed the journal and hurled it at the far corner of the tent. The confines of his lodgings seemed to be hot and stifling that the Immortal stormed outside, panting for breath like a drowning man. Any attempts to calm himself proved futile. His heart ached and the teardrops splashed upon his shirt.

        The ancient raised his head to gaze at the desert moon. Instead, however, his eyes trained up the side of the towering height of the Tademait Plateau.

        Abdullah's words at once returned to him. _"There must be something that Shinno wants from you."_

        A smile slowly formed on the corners of his lips. Yes, there was something that he could give to the concubine.

        The question was would Shinno accept it?

 

        If the Bandit Chief thought that he could get the whoremaster to comply with his command, he was dead wrong.

        "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" a rich, but very angry, baritone rang out through the morning air. "HOW DARE YOU ASK THIS OF ME?"

        To the amusement of the bandits, Duncan stormed out of their Chief's tent, a placating Abdullah trailing behind him. His scarlet caftan and trousers matched the color of his flushed face that was visible above the silk veil he always wore. In the bright sunlight, his brown hair was transformed into reddish tongues of flame, flickering in the desert breeze.

        "Shinno, I just thought that,  if you talked to him, you might convince him that I haven't done you any harm." The Bandit Chief was like a meek lamb begging to a mighty lion. The bandits, who were eyeing the two men closely, remembered a similar incident several years back -- when their great leader had been brought low by the fury and might of his beloved wife. It was like watching history repeat itself.

        Duncan whirled around. "Any fool could see that I haven't been harmed. Is this his doing? What has gotten into you, my Lord, that you started listening to a word he says?"

        "Like I said, I just wanted to reassure him of your well-being."

        "My being is well when I'm with you and Mikey." The concubine gripped Abdullah's hands, tightening his fingers around them in sheer desperation. "You don't know what he's done to me, what he could still do to me. He would only hurt me, RAPE ME!"

        However, the Bandit Chief held the younger man's arms. "Shinno, you are in my domain. He will do nothing to harm you, certainly not here!"

        "You do not know him like I do."

        "Don't be so stubborn, Shinno! This is for your own good!"

        "All my life I've been told what to do! But none of you knows what's best for me! It is always I who gets hurt in the end!" Tears welled up in Duncan's brown doe eyes. "It's unfair! It's so unfair!" His jaw hardened in utter obstinacy. "You can have me flogged. Threaten me with death.  I don't care. I WILL NEVER GO TO METHOS! NEVER!"

        With a choked sob, the whoremaster ran off, leaving a confused, bothered and bewildered Abdullah behind. Completely helpless, he did not notice the approach of his son and the colt.

        Mikey snorted in disgust, surprising his father who turned on his heels to face him. "Why do you force him to go to Big Nose, Papa? Can't you see that he doesn't want to talk to him?"

        "This is a very complicated matter, son," Abdullah tried to explain patiently. "Difficult for you to understand because you're still young."

        However, Mikey crossed his arms over his chest, chin raised. "Shinno doesn't want to see Big Nose. What's hard to understand about that? You grown-ups! Always making things so complicated. Let's go, Morrie! We'd better take care of Shinno ourselves."

        As his son walked off, the Bandit Chief didn't see the colt inch close to him until it was too late. With utter maliciousness, Moeru stomped his hoof down hard on Abdullah's toes as he passed by, the crunching of small bones audible.

        It took considerable effort on the bandits' part to hold back their laughter, seeing their esteemed leader gripping his aching foot with both hands and jumping up and down, howling as he did so.

 

        Mikey found Duncan in the training area. The concubine was leaning over the fence, back turned to him. Still, he could see how the younger man's body shook as he wept.

        "Duncan?" he asked softly.

        The whoremaster straightened up at once, wiping away his tears on his sleeve. "I thought you promised me you wouldn't call me that out here."

        "I'm sorry, but we're alone. I swear no one heard me." Mikey shuffled his feet nervously. "I just wanted to see if you're all right."

        Duncan looked at the older man. "I'm fine," he said, smiling, "now that you and Moeru are here."

        Mikey beamed as well. "Yes, yes, yes! That's me and Morrie! Your ever loyal bodyguards!" He cocked his head curiously at the concubine. "So…what are we going to do today? More training?"

        "Not for you. Today, I train alone." Winking at the Bandit Chief's son, he invited, "You could watch me, if you like."

        Mikey nodded in eagerness. "Yes, I'd like that very much."

        To his amazement, Duncan leaped high into the air. For a moment, he thought that the whoremaster was jumping over the fence. Instead, Duncan landed on top of a fence post, standing on it with perfect balance.

        "How did you do that?" Mikey exclaimed in awe.

        The concubine simply shrugged. "A lot of practice…" He giggled in embarrassment. "…And a lot of falling."

        Mikey watched, with mouth agape, as Duncan began his exercises. Like a graceful acrobat, he leaped from one post to another. On the rails in between, he did a series of leaps and turns. At one point, Duncan stood on his hands, fingers gripping the wood, his legs parted in a split.

        Suddenly, before Mikey or Moeru could even move, a swift figure vaulted over their heads. Twirling on his hands, the whoremaster righted himself, assuming a defensive stance, as his would-be attacker landed on the rail before him.

        "METHOS!" Duncan hissed in righteous anger at the sight of the Immortal. "Damn you! How can I be free of you? When are you going to leave me in peace?"

        With an angry cry, the concubine let fly with a right hook. But the ancient skillfully ducked out of the way. Having put all his weight and strength into that one punch, Duncan was caught off-balance and started to fall.

        Strong hands, however, grabbed him and lifted him up. At first, he was flying through the air. Then, there was a slight bump as he landed. To Duncan's shock, he at once realized that Methos was carrying him, like a babe in his arms. Worse, his own traitorous hands were wrapped around the ancient's neck.

        "LET ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!" the whoremaster demanded n fury.

        Methos grinned. "After saving your life, this is the gratitude I get?"

        "PUT…ME …DOWN!"

        "How can I do that with the way you're clinging so tightly to my neck?"

        Blushing, Duncan immediately let go, clasping his hands together. "Now, will you PLEASE put me down?"

        But a gentle smile formed on the ancient's face. "Wrong move." He took the younger man's hands and laid them once more over his neck. Closing his eyes, Methos raised Duncan's veil and kissed him on the lips.

        The concubine was stunned, unable to move or breathe. His mind was screaming for him to fight back -- to scratch Methos' face or gouge his eyes out. However, his heart urged his sweet surrender -- to return the older man's sweet kiss, to open his long legs and let the Immortal join with him, to tear off his veil and reveal his true identity to the ancient.

        Before he could decide, Methos carefully lowered him to the ground. As the concubine looked on, the ancient himself fell to one knee before him. Methos removed a very familiar pack that was slung to his back. Duncan hadn't noticed it at first. The Immortal raised the pack to the whoremaster, the ivory hilt of the katana poking out of the leather bag.

        "We had an arrangement, Shinno," Methos reminded him. "Something we have not yet concluded. You still require further training with the sword."

        Duncan stared at the older man in disbelief. "Why would you still want to teach me? I have no gold to pay you." The concubine took a step back, pulling the lapel of his caftan close. "You want that other…service. Is that it?"

        Surprisingly, Methos shook his head. "No, not this time. I want nothing in return from you. All I want is to teach you the art of the sword."

        "How could I believe you?"

        "I do not ask you to believe in me now, not while the wound I had inflicted upon you is still fresh. Take your weapons, Shinno, so you could practice on your own. I will patiently await your decision."

        Duncan opened his mouth to speak -- ready to tell the ancient that he was eager to continue with his lessons.  Instead, he took his pack from the Immortal and said, "I'll think about it."

        Shouts and the sounds of galloping horses interrupted their conversation. For a moment, the two men looked at each other.

        It was Mikey who answered. "Something's wrong. They're saying some men have been killed, some hurt."

        "I brought your medical kit," Methos quickly said.

        Nodding, Duncan hurried in the direction of the shouts, Methos and Mikey, with little Moeru, following behind him. They saw the bandits crowding around the new arrivals. Pushing through them, he was shocked to find three men seriously wounded. One had a gaping slash over his belly. The other's arm was broken, the bone protruding through the skin. The third had a bleeding gash over his brow.

        "My God! Who did this?" demanded Duncan as he hastened to open his medical kit. He proceeded to treat the men.

        Methos caught Abdullah's approach at the corner of his eye. Their eyes meeting, the Immortal knew immediately that these three men were part of the band the Bandit Chief had ordered to take care of the mastermind of Shinno's abduction.

        It was while he was watching the whoremaster as he took care of the wounded that Methos noticed something.

        "Shinno…" he whispered.

        Duncan gazed up to find the ancient very pale. But this was only momentary, his face becoming livid with rage.

        "Methos?" asked the concubine, confused. "What is it? What's wrong?"

        "Take a good look at their clothes."

        At first, Duncan didn't see anything wrong with the garments of the three men. True, they were of the same make and color, but they were still ordinary. Certainly not the type of clothes that would attract attention.

        Immediately, Duncan gasped, realizing what the older man was driving at. He turned accusing eyes to Abdullah, whose face had become as white as a ghost's.

        "YOU!" Duncan exclaimed. "It was you who sent that assassin to kill Methos! Why? How…"

        Whatever else the concubine was going to say was drowned out by Methos' outraged roar as he leaped, with clawed hands outstretched, for the Bandit Chief's throat.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

 

        Chaos descended upon the bandits' camp like a swift sandstorm, and Duncan was powerless to stop it, his hands tied as they were in trying to save the three wounded men's lives. His attention, however, was being distracted by the noises around him -- shouts, Mikey's wailing for his father and Moeru's panicked whinnying. Methos' furious voice caused him to pause from his task.

        The concubine was horrified to see the ancient straddling the Bandit Chief, his iron hands tightening around Abdullah's throat. Methos' face was transformed into a mask of rage.

        "Damn you, you desert dog!" the Immortal roared at the man pinned beneath him. "You profess to caring for Shinno, but your assassin almost got him killed! If you want me dead, tell your men to kill the person they are tasked to kill! Not an innocent! If Shinno had been harmed in anyway, I would've pursued you no matter where you hid! You and that bastard who paid you to do it!"

        "DON'T HURT MY PAPA!" Mikey screamed. "PLEASE DON'T HURT MY PAPA!"

        The man with the abdominal wound suddenly took a deep, heaving breath, gurgling sounds emanating from his throat. Before the whoremaster could do anything, he died.

        Gritting his teeth, Duncan shouted, "ENOUGH! STOP IT RIGHT NOW!"

        Silence fell upon the camp, everyone turning startled eyes towards the concubine.

        "Let him go, Methos!" Duncan commanded sternly.

        Methos countered just as strongly, "No! I will not give him a chance to harm either of us again, especially you!"

        "He was paid to do the job. How was Abdullah to know what I looked like? He didn't even know us back then! Vent your anger upon the man who masterminded this. Not Abdullah! He already knows me. He wouldn't dare harm me!"

        The ancient stared at the whoremaster aghast. "Are you saying that we should let bygones be bygones?"

        "Methos, you've seen for yourself that he is not an evil man. Please let him go! His son needs him!"

        "I don't care about his son!"

        "Just as you don't care about anyone else, except yourself!"

        "You know that's not true! Damn it, Shinno! You know how much I care about you!"

        "If you care for me, you will let Abdullah go! For the love of God, Methos! I cannot take much more of this violence! I've lost one man already! Should I lose more because you are too stubborn and dead set on revenge?"

        "Is that really your reason?" Methos stared sharply at the younger man. "Let's have the truth out in the open, right now! Tell me the truth and I will let Abdullah go!"

        Duncan shook his head in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

        "I want to know how you feel about me!"

        The concubine was taken aback by that statement. "This is not the proper time or the place for this!"

        "No time is better than now!" Then, in utter desperation, with tears misting his eyes, Methos blurted out, "SHINNO, I LOVE YOU!"

        At that pronouncement, Duncan felt his heart stop. A vacuum seemed to envelop him, making breathing difficult. For the first time in his life, the whoremaster was torn. Though his mind cried out for vengeance, his heart urged him to acknowledge his true feelings for the Immortal.

_        Damn you, Methos!_ he cursed inwardly, hands clenching into fists. _Damn you for putting me in this tight spot!_

        Through the haze of indecision, it was Mikey's frightened cries of "Papa! Papa!" that brought him back to reality. That, and the whimpers of pain of the wounded men.

        Duncan lowered his gaze, his eyes focusing on the gash of one man's head. "Forgive me,  Methos," he said, his voice steady and firm. "I do not love you."

        Those five words pierced through Methos' heart like arrows. Slowly, his fingers loosened their grip and released the Bandit Chief, who coughed and gasped for breath.

        Somehow, Abdullah managed to order, "TAKE HIM! I WANT HIS HEAD!"

        "No!" Duncan exclaimed. "This isn't necessary!"

        "He tried to kill me…before my own people!"

        "But he released you, at my request!" The whoremaster found himself bursting into tears. "Please, my Lord! As I have begged Methos for your life, I ask you this time to spare his! Please! I will do anything!"

        For a moment, Abdullah looked at the two men -- the younger on his knees, tears in his coffee brown eyes, begging for mercy, the older suddenly meek in the arms of his captors, head lowered and shoulders hunched from the pain of rejected love.

        Turning to the bandits who held the Immortal, he commanded, "Keep him under guard inside his tent! I will decide what to do with him later!"

        At these words, the bandits escorted the ancient to his tent. Not once did Methos raise his head to look at the concubine.

        Duncan prostrated himself at the Bandit Chief's feet. "You have my eternal gratitude, my Lord."

        Instead, Abdullah answered curtly, "We shall discuss this later…in my tent. For now, since you are obviously a healer, please see to my men." He gestured to his son. "Mikey?"

        Mikey glanced at the whoremaster, who gave him a reassuring nod. Offering his arm to his father, he led the bandit back to his tent.

        Before he could get back to work, there was a gentle nudge on his shoulder. Turning, Duncan saw Moeru blinking back at him.

        "Do you want to help me, Moeru?" he smiled. "Very well! I'll make you my runner if I need more supplies."

        The colt's tongue snaked out and lapped away the tears that were continuously flowing from the concubine's eyes.

        "It's all right, Moeru," Duncan sniffed his tears back as he lied. "I'll be fine."

 

        Night had fallen when Duncan left the healer's tent. He had much difficulty in setting the arm of the bandit with the compound fracture, as well as sewing up the break in the skin. Another reason why he had taken his time was to find out the identity of the man they were ordered to kill. Both men, however, remained tight-lipped that, in the end, Duncan had simply given up and let them rest. He was thankful at least that the kind healer had ordered her assistants to fill up the tub with water for his bath, and even surrounded it with a screen for his privacy. When he was finished, the whoremaster found Moeru waiting for him with a bundle of clean clothes, obviously from Mikey.

        As he trudged through the camp, with Moeru trotting at his side, Duncan did not realize that his subconscious was guiding his feet toward the ancient Immortal's tent. In his surprise, he stopped a short distance away, eyeing the stern guards standing at the entrance. At first, he hesitated, unsure of what to do.

        Getting down on one knee before the colt, he said, "Moeru, I want you to go to Mikey. I have to see Methos."

        The colt snorted and shook his head, his mane flying.

        "I must do this alone, little friend. Please! I promise I'll take care of myself."

        Moeru, however, would not budge. He even cuddled close to the whoremaster.

        "Moeru, I swear I'll be fine. But I have to do this. This is between me and Methos." Duncan kissed the colt's brow. "You understand, don't you?"

        The colt gave a grudging nod. Bussing the concubine on the lips, Moeru walked away.

        Duncan got to his feet, fixing his robes. Assuming a regal posture, he breathed in deeply and strode towards the tent. The guards immediately blocked his path with their spears.

        "I've come to see the prisoner," he announced.

        "We cannot do that, my Lord," one of the men replied. "Our Lord Abdullah forbade us from letting anyone see the prisoner."

        "Your prisoner is my bodyguard. I have a right to see him. If you fear that we might escape, you have my word as the Emir's Royal Concubine that we will not. If you wish, you could call more men to guard this tent. All I ask is that you allow me to see him and accord us with some privacy."

        The two guards looked at each other. The man who first spoke waved to the opening. "We will not call for more guards. We have seen the concern you have shown for our comrades. We trust you."

        The whoremaster bowed graciously to them. "Thank you. May Allah bless you for the trust and kindness you have shown me." At these words, he went inside the tent.

        Duncan found Methos lying on a mat in the far corner, back turned to the younger man. He paused, uncertain of what to say.

        It was Methos who spoke up. "What are you doing here?"

        "I…" the concubine said haltingly. "I wanted to see if you're all right."

        "As you can see for yourself, I'm fine. Now, leave me be."

        Duncan took a few cautious steps forward. "Methos, I'll speak to Abdullah on your behalf. I swear I'll have you freed."

        "Now, why would you want to do that? Do you know that your beloved Bandit Chief intends to have me flogged tomorrow at noon?"

        "I'll explain everything to him. Abdullah is a reasonable man. I'm sure he'll listen to me."

        Methos at once sat up, the sudden movement causing the concubine to step back. Duncan was stunned to see the grief in the ancient's shadow-rimmed eyes. The green gold orbs had even lost their luster.

        "Of course he'll listen to you!" Methos spat out. "Don't you know that he's in love with you? You remind him of his dead wife!"

        The whoremaster was stunned at this revelation. "I…I…I didn't know. I just thought he was being kind to me."

        "You are so naive," the Immortal sneered at him, before plopping back down on the cushions.

        Duncan was stung by the older man's sarcasm. "What would you do if you were in my place, Methos? For the past twenty-five years, I've lived without knowing what love is like. It's been one abuse after another. People whom I thought I could trust, people I had loved, were the first to betray me, to rape me. You tell me that I am so naive? I wouldn't recognize love even if it hit me in the face. The closest thing to love that I've known is with Abdullah's son, Mikey. Yes, even with Abdullah himself. At least, they treat me with kindness and respect. They don't treat me like a whore!"

        "If you care for them so much, then why did you come here?"

        "Because I wanted to be fair to you. You told me that you love me. I wanted to see if I feel something for you."

        "And do you? Feel something for me?"

        The concubine shook his head. "I don't know. You've hurt me so many times and broken so many promises. I don't know how I should feel about you anymore." Duncan turned on his heels. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come."

        In his haste to leave, the young man did not hear Methos rush out of his mat. He grabbed Duncan, clamping a hand over his mouth and pulled him back to the beddings. The ancient pushed the whoremaster onto the cushions and pinned him down with his body. Duncan's eyes were wide with terror as Methos reached down to snatch the veil from his face.

        "Are you going to rape me again?" he asked fearfully.

        That question broke through the haze in the Immortal's mind, his fingers hovering an inch above Duncan's face. With a choked sob, Methos threw himself at the far, dark corner of his tent and burst into remorseful sobs. The sound of the ancient's ragged weeping tugged at the concubine's heart. He crawled towards Methos and embraced him.

        "I just wanted to see your face," Methos sobbed like a child who was denied the toy he wanted. "Why could everyone see your face? Why not me?"

        "Does seeing my face mean that much to you?" Duncan queried softly.

        The concubine raised both hands, about to peel off the veil. Before he could do so, to his surprise, the ancient stopped him.

        "No, you don't have to," said Methos, the regret apparent in his words. "You only show your face to people you trust, and you don't trust me."

        "There's another, more important, reason, which I cannot tell you. But if it's causing you so much pain…"

        "It's not just your face, Shinno. It's also you. Why did you have to be the concubine of my worst enemy's friend? Why couldn't you have been someone else?"

        "But this is what I am, and there is nothing I can do to change that." Duncan closed his eyes, laying his cheek on the Immortal's back. "We're all alone here, Methos. This is your domain. I am willing to set aside our differences for tonight, and give you what you want the most."

        Methos gazed into the whoremaster's beautiful brown eyes. "Do you love me, Shinno?"

        Duncan leaned over to the lamp and blew out the flame. As he surrendered himself into the ancient's embrace, he whispered, "For tonight, yes Methos, I love you."

 

        Mikey hurried to Methos' tent. He was furious with Moeru for having left Duncan all alone. After what the Immortal did to his father, he feared for the concubine's safety.

        The guards did not stop him as he entered the tent. However, Mikey came to a dead halt at the sight that greeted him.

        In the dim light of the still smoldering embers of the lamp, Duncan and Methos were lost in the throes of passion, oblivious to the man who was watching them. As Mikey stared in confusion and growing fascination, he saw the two men kiss and embrace each other. Tears trickled from the corners of Duncan's eyes. Mikey swallowed hard as the ancient descended to the tiny jewel on the whoremaster's chest to suckle upon it. Duncan arched his chest upward into that ravenous mouth, moaning in bliss. With mouth agape, Mikey saw Methos gripping the concubine's now erect member, stroking it to its full length. To his greater surprise, instead of piss, a milk-like fluid spurted from the tip. Gathering the fluid with his fingers, Methos coated his own member with it. Spreading Duncan's legs wide, the ancient thrust his cock into the younger man's opening. To Mikey's horror, he felt his own rod rising in earnest within his trousers. The ecstatic cries of the two men drowned out Mikey's strangled whimper as he fled from the tent.

        Mikey did not stop until he reached their lodgings. To his relief, his father was not in the tent as he ran inside his chamber.

        Moeru blinked at his master as Mikey tore off his stained trousers in disgust and wiped away the slick fluids between his thighs. Swiftly, he crawled under the blanket and cuddled close to the colt, hugging his long neck.

        Although the images of the coupling he had stumbled upon still burned inside his mind, Mikey muttered hoarsely in Moeru's ear, "I didn't see anything, Morrie. I swear I didn't see anything."

 

        "Where have you been, Shinno?" Abdullah asked the younger man as he entered the tent. The Bandit Chief went to see the concubine at the healer's tent, only to find him already gone. He didn't even have to guess where Duncan was.

        Duncan sighed as he peeled off his veil. "Do you have to ask? I was with Methos, my Lord."

        "Why did you go to him?"

        "To see to his well-being. I've heard that you intend to have him flogged tomorrow."

        "That is my plan, especially after what he did to me."

        "You know the reason why he did it. He is justified in his anger. If I hadn't been concerned with your men, I would have done the same. If Methos hadn't saved me, your assassin's arrow would have pierced my heart."

        "But you were not the target."

        "Yes, I know. Methos was the target. However, I was nearly killed as well, and I have very good reason to be angry with you."

        "And are you angry?"

        "Perhaps, I am. Enough to not want to sleep with you tonight."

        Abdullah glared sharply at the younger man. "Is that the real reason? Why don't you just admit that you slept with him? You wreak of his scent!"

        "And I'm filled with his seed as well," Duncan declared just as angrily. "So what if I've lain with another man? In case you've forgotten, I am a whore!"

        With a swiftness the concubine didn't think the Bandit Chief was capable of, Abdullah lunged at him. Duncan grunted in pain as he landed on the mat, the breath knocked out of him. Before he could move, the bandit flipped him onto his hands and knees. Duncan cried out as Abdullah penetrated him.

        "Good thing he greased you with his spoor," said the Bandit Chief, thrusting brutally into the younger man's still tender flesh. "I can take you again and again and again like the whore that you are!"

 

        Within his chamber, Mikey had heard Duncan's cry. Getting up, he crawled towards the flap, this time, to witness his father coupling with the weeping concubine. Unlike earlier, Duncan was on all fours, the Bandit Chief rutting above him. He had only seen this among animals.

        Then, the whoremaster raised his head, his tear-filled brown eyes meeting with bewildered dark orbs. Mikey couldn't look away. He feared that his dear friend had already seen the desire in his eyes. Duncan, however, gave him a reassuring smile.

        As Mikey crept back inside his chamber, his tears began to flow, unable to stop them even after the sounds inside his father's chamber had ceased.

 

        Duncan lay on his side, his back turned to the Bandit Chief, whose arm covered the deep shame on his face. Abdullah could hear the soft sobs of the young man beside him.

        "Shinno, I'm sorry," Abdullah whispered, truly repentant. "Please forgive me."

        "I thought you would be different," said Duncan accusingly. "I guess I was wrong." Gritting his teeth, he added, "If you intend to  flog Methos, then I suggest you prepare to use that whip on me instead. I will not allow you to punish a man for protecting me. He is my responsibility. The punishment should fall on my back."

        Before the Bandit Chief could speak, the concubine stood up and donned his robes, going inside Mikey's chamber. He was shocked to find Mikey still awake, sitting on his mat. He was  rocking back and forth, his eyes moving from side to side in agitation.

        "Mikey?" Duncan wiped the tears from the older man's cheeks. "Why are you still awake? Come now! We'll sleep together."

        Meekly, he allowed the whoremaster to lay him down on the mat, where Moeru was snoring.

        "What were you doing with Big Nose and Papa?" Mikey inquired softly. "I was so scared for you."

        "It's called sex, Mikey," Duncan answered, surprised by the older man's choice of topic. "It's something that grown-ups do. That's what your Mama and Papa did so that they could have you."

        "Is it the same as what my father's men call 'making love'?"

        "Yes, it is. Supposed to be."

        "But if you make love, why were you crying? If there's love, you shouldn't be crying. It looked like they were hurting you pretty bad."

        "It's difficult to explain this to a youngster like you. It's a very complicated thing."

        For a moment, Mikey fell silent. With great hesitation, he asked, "Would you show me, Duncan? How it's like to make love?"

        Duncan was taken aback by that innocent query. If he hadn't just survived the rape that was inflicted upon him by Mikey's father, he knew his answer would be in the negative.

        But this was Mikey -- sweet, innocent Mikey, whose child's mind and behavior would never appeal sexually to a woman or man. How could he refuse this request? After all, as he told Abdullah, he was a whore. Besides that, he was also a dear friend. Better that the older man learned of earthly matters from someone who cared for him. Not like what happened to him twenty-five years ago.

        Mikey's voice, pleading and filled with love and yearning, interrupted his thoughts. "Duncan, please? I promise I won't hurt you."

        Duncan leaned forward and gave Mikey a passionate kiss on the lips that took his breath away. "I know you won't hurt me, Mikey. Tomorrow, it would be a great pleasure for me to make love with you."

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

 

        Abdullah stared at the concubine in stunned disbelief. "My son asked you WHAT?"

        "I need not repeat myself again, my Lord," Duncan said with a hint of irritation. The last thing he wanted was to discuss this delicate matter with the man who raped him the previous night. However, he's still the father of Mikey, and he had to know about the boon his son had asked of him. That was why he decided to talk to Abdullah in the meeting tent, which was a neutral place. "Mikey saw us last night and he became...curious."

        The Bandit Chief pounded his fist on the tent post. "No! I won't allow it! Mikey is just a child!"

        "A child with a grown man's body!" the whoremaster pointedly reminded Abdullah. "Please be realistic! You know you can't keep him sheltered...and innocent...for too long. One way or another, he would know about it. You're not even aware of the fact that your son is very observant. Do you think he hasn't seen the animals doing it in their pens?"

        "But this is different. We're talking about human beings here!"

        "Did you not fuck me like an animal last night?" Duncan declared hotly. "That was one of the things he asked me last night -- if you were supposed to do that to me."

        Abdullah turned away in guilt. He had to hand it to the concubine. He knew how to stick barbs into a guilty man's conscience.

        Duncan immediately noticed the change in the Bandit Chief's demeanor. "I apologize for my rudeness. It's not my place to speak thus. After all, that is...the service...required of me."

        "And now you would give this service to my son." Abdullah turned to give the younger man a level glare, and he found himself asking the same question that Methos had asked him before. "Why should I trust you? How do I know if you're not just using my son so you could escape?"

        "Is that how low you think of me now? Why should you judge me in this manner when you have done the greater wrong to me?"

        Duncan turned his back to the older man, head lowered. "You ask why I would give this service to your son. Because I want to. Better that I be the one to give him this instruction -- someone who does care for him -- than someone else. Someone who would not take advantage of his innocence. I should know this. Twenty-five years ago, I had been in this position that Mikey is in now. Unlike your son, I didn't have anyone to show me right from wrong. Child as I was, I trusted people blindly."

        "I was five years old, the only son of a Highland Chieftain." The whoremaster caught the surprise on Abdullah's face. "Surprised? I wasn't raised a whore, you know. At that time, there were wars among the clans that my father hired four fierce warriors -- 'Brothers', they called themselves -- to train our men. One of them became my dearest friend.

        "You don't know how much I admired him. He was a great swordsman, an excellent warrior. And he adored me. Despite my tender age, he made certain that I watched the training sessions of the warriors in the clan and taught me the basics of the sword. Unlike my father who was always involved in the affairs of my clan, he always had time for me. He would often take me into the woods or near the banks of the loch where we would play to our hearts' content. At night, he would tell me stories about elves and fairies, and warriors from other lands. He was more like a father to me than my own.

        "On the other hand, I feared his three Brothers. They were hulking brutes who delighted in teasing me until I cried. They had particular enjoyment in teasing me about the kilt I wore, saying that a pretty little boy like me should not be wearing a kilt because someone might mistake me for a girl. It got to the point that I hated them so much for their cruel jibes at me. But what I hated the most about them was the way they tormented my dear friend, especially their leader. He was always treating my friend badly. Sometimes, I would catch him slapping my friend in the rump or giving him a painful squeeze in the thigh. I didn't understand what those gestures meant then. All I cared about was that it was making my friend unhappy.

        "One night, I was looking for my friend. I found him in his Brother's chamber. They were doing exactly the same thing that Mikey had seen us do last night. I saw my beloved friend crying as his Brother took him. That was the last straw for me. I waited for my friend to leave before confronting his Brother. I was like David facing Goliath, but I didn't have a slingshot with me. All I had was my sharp tongue. In no few words, I ordered him to leave my friend alone or else I will have him banished from the clan. I dared to speak thus, because I was the Chieftain's son.

        "To my surprise, he didn't become angry with my audacious behavior. Instead, he praised me, saying that I had the potential of becoming a great warrior. But there was one thing that I still did not know -- the Way of Warriors." Duncan paused in his narration and lowered his gaze. "He told me it was the way of warriors to...join...with his brother-in-arms. It makes the warrior bond strong, that it helps to increase their strength and their power. That was why he and his Brothers, including my friend, seized every opportunity to join with each other. He told me that if I wanted to fulfill my dream of becoming a great warrior someday, I must join with my best friend. However, there's a problem. My friend will not join with anyone who didn't have...the experience. He said that it was a waste, because he saw in me and my friend a very strong warrior bond. It would be a shame to see it broken because of my inexperience. That was why I got up the courage to ask him to teach me about this...joining. And he was only too happy to oblige."

        The Bandit Chief listened in shocked silence to the concubine's story. "Shinno...surely you didn't..."

        Duncan's head whipped to the side to reveal his tear-streaked face. "He hurt me, my Lord. I was only five years old and he tricked me into fucking with him. He took advantage of my innocence so that he could abuse me. Still, I endured the pain. This was my first step to becoming a warrior. I bore it all, because I wanted to be with my friend.

        "After it happened, I went to my friend's chamber. I was about to tell him what happened, when my father barged into the room. He saw the stains on my body. He thought that it was my friend who did it. I don't remember everything that has happened next. It was all too confusing and frightening at the same time. My father hit me in the face and started calling me a 'whore.' He demanded to know who I had lain with. In my terror, all I screamed was one word -- 'Him.' But I wasn't referring to my friend, but his Brother. Things happened so fast after that. I watched as my friend climbed through the window, slowly raising his hand to me. I thought he was going to ask me to escape with him. Instead, he pointed his finger at me. He said something to me, but because of the noise, I didn't hear it, but I knew he was very angry with me. He jumped out the window and disappeared into the moat below.

        "The next few days were sheer hell for me. Although I was a child, that did not stop my clansmen from ridiculing me at every opportunity. I was no longer the Chieftain's son. To them, I was a catamite, a whore. What made matters worse was that I was really not my father's son. My parents merely adopted me from a peasant woman who found me in the forest. In the end, my father could not bear my presence any longer and decided to banish me from the clan. He gave me to my friend's two Brothers to get rid of. The one who really raped me, he disappeared that same night that my friend abandoned me. During the long journey, his Brothers used me as well. They brought me to their...friend, the Emir Zaid al-Bahir. After he abused me, the Emir saw in me the potential of becoming a great whore, if not the best concubine in the whole world. That's why, when I reached the age of ten, he sent me to the various corners of the Earth, so that I could get the training from the best whores. Now that my training is over, I was to be delivered back to him. But here I am in your camp instead."

        Suddenly, something struck inside the Bandit Chief's head. "This...this 'friend' you were telling me about. It's Methos, isn't it."

        The whoremaster slowly nodded.

        "He doesn't know?"

        "No, and I don't want him to find out that the person he is seeking his vengeance upon is the same man he is tasked to protect. He believes that I am the Lord of the Keep, the child who had accused him falsely turned Chieftain of the clan, which, in truth, I am not." Duncan laughed bitterly. "Methos doesn't know that I aim to avenge my betrayal and abandonment upon him as well. Thankfully, I've met a few good men and women during my journey, who saw in me still existing the potential of becoming a warrior. They trained me in martial arts, taught me the art of the sword and weaponry in secrecy. One of my teachers was lost to me because he tried to help me escape. In his honor, I keep his teachings inside my heart. I practice at every opportunity. I've even gone so far as to lead a double life as a thief and assassin. I stole from ruthless robbers and bandits, killed a number of them too, and gave their riches to the poor. As time passed, however, I realized that what I've learned wasn't enough. If I were to defeat a master of swords, I must learn from this same master. So, when I learned that the Emir has requested for Methos to lead the caravan through the desert, I seized the opportunity to ask him to teach me the art of the sword.

        "Oh, it wasn't easy! It required a more elaborate deception. Knowing that he would never willfully teach martial arts to a whore, I pretended to be the Emir's ambitious whoremaster, Shinno. As Shinno, I appealed to his sense of greed. After all, as a whore and a thief, I have amassed quite a fortune during my travels. However, during our first conversation, I realized that gold was not enough as an enticement for him. That same night, to appeal to his sense of lust, I assumed a second identity, my REAL role, as the Emir's prized whore, Sanchi. It worked well in the beginning -- after sword lessons with Shinno, he would bed the concubine Sanchi. However, circumstances were against me. Methos became suspicious. He suspected that Shinno and Sanchi were one and the same person. I almost got away with this charade by having one of the servants disguise himself as Shinno, so that there were two of us around. But the man was a drunk and he became careless. It was through the malice of the Emir's adviser Kamir, who was my constant companion during my travels, that Methos found out the truth."

        Abdullah noticed the change in the younger man, deep hurt crossing his handsome features. "You sound disappointed."

        "I must admit that, at first, Methos treated me like dirt. It was expected, since he believed that I was the whore of his worst enemy's friend. The way he abused me...although he hurt me, he made me want that kind of treatment." An unexpected smile formed on Duncan's lips. "In a way, I am thankful to your assassin. After he tried to kill us, Methos changed. He became the man I knew as a child -- protective, kind, loving. I lost myself to the man he once was." The concubine shook his head. "It was a mistake that nearly cost me everything."

        "Then why did you go to him tonight? Is it because you still have feelings for him, perhaps?"

        "No. I will not fall into that trap again. I've been hurt far too many times to believe in his promises." Duncan brushed away the tears that were forming in his eyes. "I don't believe this! I'm here to talk to you about your son's boon. How did I end up telling you the story of my life?"

        Abdullah granted the whoremaster a kind, but sad, little smile. "Maybe it's because it's a story that needs to be told now. A soul needs to share its heavy burden with another."

        "But why with you? After what you did to me last night…"

        "Maybe, in your heart, you know that I regret what I did to you, and, I sincerely hope, that you have already forgiven me."

        "I don't know." The concubine smiled shyly as well. "Perhaps I have. Or maybe it's simply because of your son, because we have so much in common."

        The Bandit Chief nodded thoughtfully. "If this is my son's request, I see no reason why I should not allow this. You are the best man I know to give him the instruction he seeks. Please? Be gentle with him."

        Duncan said reassuringly, "He's in good hands, my Lord. I swear I will not hurt him."

        "Yes, I know you will not."

        There is much hesitation on the whoremaster's face. "I have…a boon…to ask of you as well, my Lord. In exchange for the service that I will give to your son."

        "Tell me what it is and I will grant it," Abdullah urged him. "Consider it as my expiation for the crime I did to you last night."

        "My Lord…" Duncan began haltingly. "I ask that you spare Methos." The Bandit Chief was about to contradict, but the concubine went on speaking. "You know the reason for his anger. He was concerned for my welfare, and the life that I nearly lost to your assassin's arrow."

        "I don't understand. After the terrible things he did to you, I am more convinced that the man deserves to be punished."

        "But not by your hands. This is between him and me. Let me deal with Methos in my own way."

        The Bandit Chief stared suspiciously at the younger man. Despite his earlier words, he could tell that the whoremaster still has deep feelings for Methos. With a sigh, he said, "If that is your wish, very well. I will do as you request."

        "I thank you, my Lord, for your understanding," the concubine bowed in gratitude. "I will ensure that this unfortunate incident will not happen again."

        The whoremaster was about to leave when Abdullah stopped him. "There is one last thing I need to ask you."

        "What is it, my Lord?"

        "I've been calling you 'Shinno,' but I don't think that is your real name."

        "Shinno's a good enough name for me, and so's Sanchi. However, you are correct that neither is my true name, but they are clues to my real identity. 'Shinno'…Japanese for 'prince,' for I was the son of a Chieftain. 'Sanchi'…the Highlands, which was my home. I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. I am a Highlander."

        As the concubine gaped in surprise, the Bandit Chief fell to his knees and bowed before him. "It is a great honor for me, my young lord. I swear, on my life, that your secret is safe with me, and that I will do all I can to protect you from those who would do you harm."

        Duncan was touched by the sincerity in the older man's words. He gathered Abdullah into his arms. "Please don't call me 'lord.' That was a long time ago and, now, I am just a whore."

        "Never underestimate your worth, Duncan. With your beauty, your indomitable will, the purity of your soul…you are a much greater threat to those who abused you and turned you into a whore."

        "Me? A threat?" The whoremaster laughed. "How could I be a threat?"

        "It's because you change people for the good. I mean, just look at what you did to me and my son."

        "My Lord, you are such a flatterer!" Duncan leaned forward and kissed the Bandit Chief on the lips. "But I thank you so much for your kind words."

        Abdullah felt a gentle caress on his cheek, and then the whoremaster was gone. Outside, he heard his son's eager voice.

        "What did he say? What did he say?" Mikey asked the concubine in all earnestness.

        A squeal of delight followed. Mikey ran inside the tent and embraced his father. "Thank you, Papa! Thank you!"

        "A word of advice, my son," warned Abdullah. "This is not a kind of play. Treat Shinno well. Love him."

        Mikey winked. "I already do." Saying this, he skipped happily outside where Duncan was waiting for him.

        Abdullah stood at the opening of the meeting tent, watching as his son walked away, hand in hand, with the concubine. Yes, he would protect Duncan, with his life if necessary. He was thankful enough that his men were, at least, able to delay the arrival of the man who masterminded the whore's abduction. Now being the time of the sirocco, it would probably take him a few more days before he will reach the camp.

        Suddenly, the Bandit Chief detected movement out of the corner of his eye. Methos had emerged from the tent. Although the guards held him back, it was clear to him that the ancient wanted to see Duncan, perhaps even talk to him. However, the whoremaster's story entered his mind once more, his face hardening as a struggling Methos was pushed back inside the tent.

        With a discreet wave, Abdullah summoned one of his men nearby.

        "Gather twelve of our best men and tell them to get ready," he told the man firmly. "At my command, we shall take the prisoner into the desert and flog him to death."

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

 

        It had taken only one question. Duncan was grinning at Mikey, who was seated on a cushion, mouth agape and wide, nystagmic eyes gawking at him, ever-faithful Moeru at his side. He placed a wondering finger to his face, the tip tapping on his cheek.

        "Now," the whoremaster began, "where shall we start?"

        The question had just escaped his lips, when he found himself flying backwards in a flurry of satin and silk. A questing, earnest mouth was latched onto his lips that, as he landed on the mat, his sharp exhalation entered Mikey's mouth.

        "Hummph…hummph…" Duncan struggled to breathe, putting his hands between their bodies.

        Just as suddenly, Mikey pulled away, leaving the younger man gasping for breath. For a moment, they stared at each other in bewilderment.

        To Duncan's shock, Mikey broke into a wail, knuckles rubbing over his eyes that were leaking tears. "You don't like my kiss! You don't like me kissing you! WAAAAH!"

        It was a struggle for the concubine not to laugh as he hurried to the side of the Bandit Chief's son. Wiping away the tears with his veil, Duncan exclaimed, "Oh, my dear Mikey! Please don't cry! Of course I like your kiss. It was loving, sweet, certainly exuberant."

        There was a quizzical expression on Mikey's face at that last word. "What does that mean?"

        "It means very happy, and fast. You were definitely very fast. But…it's not the kind of kiss I had in mind."

        "You mean there are other kinds of kisses?"

        Duncan nodded. "The kiss that is a part of lovemaking is loving, gentle and sweet, but it is also slow. It is never rushed. A gentle pressure of lips… Sometimes, you have to close your eyes to feel as your lips meet and part." Demonstrating, the concubine closed his eyes. With pursed lips, he moved his head dreamily from side to side, kissing the air. His arms were wrapped around his body. To his trepidation, what his mind focused on was the image of Methos -- arms raised to him and lips ready to kiss. The ancient's face moved closer and closer to his. Duncan frowned in surprise when a warm, fuzzy mouth pressed upon his lips. Opening his eyes, the concubine found himself staring at Moeru's mischievous, round, black orbs. Realizing he was caught, the colt bared his front teeth in a sheepish snicker.

        "Moeru!" Duncan growled menacingly. He pointed towards the tent opening. "OUT!"

        The colt stubbornly shook his head, red mane flying at the movement.

        "Two's company and three's a crowd, little one. Besides, perversions like bestiality are not a part of the curriculum. Now, go!"

        Grumbling, the colt started trotting towards the exit. However, he made a quick detour and hid behind a stack of cushions.

        "I saw you, Moeru!" the concubine exclaimed.

        Moeru's head peeked above the cushions. Sticking his tongue out in displeasure, the colt went outside the tent. To ensure their privacy, Duncan sealed the flap.

        "Morrie looks so sad," mused Mikey.

        "Don't worry!" the whoremaster reassured him. "We'll find a pretty mare for Moeru once he's bigger. Now, where were we? Oh, yes! A kiss." He took Mikey's hands and bade him to stand up. Duncan laid the older man's hands on his waist. "Let your kiss come from the feelings inside your heart. Let it guide you on what to do." His eyelids fluttered shut, lips, full and luscious, raised invitingly to Mikey.

        At first, Mikey hesitated. He then wiped his mouth on his shirt sleeve. Breathing in deeply, he leaned forward and kissed the concubine. Initially, it was a tentative peck, but when he saw that the younger man was still waiting and willing, he deepened the kiss, becoming passionate and intimate. Mikey paused once more when, to his surprise, Duncan opened his mouth to him. To encourage him, the whoremaster held the back of Mikey's head, trapping his tongue between his lips, urging it inside his moist depths. It was an invitation the older man couldn't refuse. Eagerly, Mikey plunged his tongue inside Duncan's mouth, exploring the exquisite tastes of the beautiful man in his arms. So lost was he in the emotions that were being aroused in him that he did not notice that he was earnestly letting his lips roam all over the younger man's face and graceful neck, teeth nipping at an earlobe.

        Realizing what he was already doing, Mikey pulled away abruptly. With aching shyness, he popped his thumb between his lips, a blush going up his cheeks.

        "Mikey?" Duncan asked curiously. "What happened? Why did you stop?"

        The son of the Bandit Chief smiled sheepishly. "I don't know what to do next."

        "And you were already doing so well." The concubine took a step back and flopped his arms to his sides. "What to do next? Why don't you remove my clothes?"

        "Do I have to?"

        "Mikey!" the whoremaster growled impatiently.

        "Oh, all right! If you say so."

        With trembling fingers, Mikey hastened to divest the younger man of his clothing, tugging at the sash.

        Duncan giggled in amusement. "For someone who gave me a grudging assent, you are certainly in a hurry to strip me."

        Mikey blinked owlishly at him. "Am I doing it wrong?"

        "Not really, but like a kiss, you don't rush it. Take it nice and slow. That's the beauty of lovemaking. You simply take your time and enjoy each other and the feelings that are roused during the process."

        The Bandit Chief's son was a picture of studiousness as he listened to the concubine's every word. Nodding thoughtfully, he said, "I think I get it. I think." Shyly, Mikey asked, "May I kiss you while I'm taking off your clothes?"

        "I would like that, Mikey, very, very much."

        With great zeal, he embraced the whoremaster, bestowing a passionate kiss upon those soft lips once more. As he slowly peeled off Duncan's caftan, his hands caressed the silky skin of the younger man's broad shoulders and muscular arms. The caftan's descent stopped at the sash around the concubine's waist, baring his upper body. At the sight of those milk-swollen tits, Mikey did not have to think twice. He swooped down and captured a nipple inside his mouth, carefully laying the whoremaster on a thick cushion as he did so.

        With an eyebrow raised, Duncan gazed down at the man feeding on his breast. "Mikey? Don't tell me that's all you're going to do?"

        Again, those sweet eyes blinked up at him, lips smacking hungrily. "Should I be doing something else?"

        "You could play with them, you know. Squeeze them or pinch them between your fingers. Kiss them, or even nip them with your teeth. My nipples are very sensitive."

        "Can I do this?" Mikey lowered his head again and let his tongue lick and tease the taut nub. Duncan moaned in pleasure arching his chest upwards into that talented mouth.

        There was a soft chuckle, sending tingling vibrations shooting from his tit to the whole of his chest.

        "What's so funny?" queried Duncan.

        "Your tits…" Mikey lovingly let his fingertip flick over a hardened nub. "They're a much darker red, like wine."

        "It means they like what you're doing."

        As they kissed and caressed each other's bodies, they divested themselves of their remaining clothing, with Mikey pulling the caftan off of Duncan's long legs.

        They stared at each other for quite awhile.

        Drinking in the beauty of the concubine with his eyes, the Bandit Chief's son gushed, "You are soooo beautiful!"

        Duncan's eyes focused upon the massive erection between the older man's legs. "And I am very impressed."

        Mikey blushed a deep red, quickly covering his genitals. But the whoremaster removed his hands.

        "Don't do that!"

        "But it hurts, and it's…embarrassing."

        "You shouldn't be, because I am very pleased. This means that you desire me, and I like that."

        "What am I going to do? How do I get it to go down?"

        "There are three ways actually. The first, you could milk it with your hands as you would the udders of a cow. You could even get it to rise the same way. The second way is…" Duncan grinned. "Would you permit me to show you?"

        Mikey's curiosity burned about this mysterious procedure. "Yes. I give you my permission."

        Without saying another word, the whoremaster took the older man's cock inside his mouth and swallowed it to the root. A strangled cry rose from Mikey's throat. He wanted to dig his fingers into Duncan's silk tresses and pull his head back, so that he could plunge his hard member into that slick heat. However, his father's stern advice came to mind. Instead, Mikey squeezed the cushions he was sitting under, spreading his legs. Ecstasy was reached all too quickly. First, there was a tightening in his balls. Then, he climaxed convulsively, spurting his fluid into the younger man's mouth.

        Duncan released Mikey's now flaccid sex. Licking his lips, he remarked, "That was very good."

        "How did you do that?" Mikey asked in awe.

        "Just one of the tricks I learned."

        Mikey eyed the concubine's semi-erect cock. "Could you teach me?"

        "I'm afraid that it is not a technique meant to be learned by the son of a great Bandit Chief. Perhaps when you're a bit older, then I could teach you the finer, more exotic points of lovemaking."

        "But how am I going to make love to you? How could I give you pleasure?"

        A warm smile formed on Duncan's lips. This was the first time that someone was concerned about his happiness. He kissed Mikey gently, letting the older man savor the taste of his own fluids upon the whoremaster's lips.

        "I find pleasure in your happiness. You'll understand what I'm telling you when I show you the third way."

        "What's the third way?"

        "You'll see." With regal grace, Duncan stood up and went towards the table where candles were stacked on top. He picked up a large candle that was a foot long, an inch wide, flaring to two inches at its widest diameter.

        Mikey's eyes were wide with wonder as he looked at the candle. "What are you going to do with that?"

        "It's part of the demonstration, before we actually do it." Duncan propped up two cushions and reclined on them. He pulled his cock and balls upward that his rosebud opening was revealed to the awe-struck older man.

        "Duncan…" Mikey breathed out the whoremaster's name. "Don't tell me…"

        The concubine nodded. "Yes, the third way requires that you put your cock inside me."

        "But your hole… it's so tiny."

        "Don't be deceived, Mikey. Believe me, I could take you inside me. Give me your hand."

        Mikey hesitated at first, but did as the whoremaster requested. Duncan took his index and middle fingers inside his mouth, moistening them. Before the Bandit Chief's son could falter, Duncan plunged Mikey's two fingers inside his anus.

        The older man blanched, seeing his fingers disappear inside that tiny opening.

        "I want you to move your fingers inside me now," said Duncan. "You will feel something. It's not exactly hard or soft. Somewhere in between."

        Like an obedient child, Mikey moved his fingers, his tip immediately brushing against the whoremaster's gland, eliciting a cry of pleasure from him. Thinking he had hurt his dear friend, Mikey swiftly yanked his hand back.

        Seeing how pale the older man was, Duncan exclaimed, "Oh, Mikey! I didn't mean to frighten you."

        "I hurt you!" cried Mikey guiltily. "I shouldn't have done that."

        "No, you don't understand. That was my pleasure spot. How could I explain this?" The concubine lapsed into thought. "Pleasure spot… When someone makes love to me, it is this secret place where I draw such great pleasure. No one knows this. Usually, I have sex with people and they never find it. They just end up hurting me. There are times when I do feel pleasure even if they do not touch my secret place, especially if they are loving and gentle with me. But contact with my pleasure spot…it fills my body with such intense feelings of fullness and completeness. It's very hard to describe unless you experience it."

        "Why can't I?"

        "Because I could never do this to you, Mikey."

        "Even if I ask? Even if I want to?"

        Duncan nodded. "You lose a part of yourself when you are…taken…in this manner. Your innocence, to be exact. I will not let you lose that one precious thing I cherish in you."

        "What about you? What about your innocence?"

        "I lost my innocence a long, long time ago. I have nothing more to lose." The whoremaster took the candle and moistened it with Mikey's fluids from their earlier coupling. "Enough talk. Let me show you how it is done."

        The Bandit Chief's son gasped as Duncan thrust the candle inside his opening. As his right hand controlled the ever-deepening plunge of the candle inside his body, his left stroked his cock. Not wanting to see the expression on Mikey's face, he closed his eyes. A tear trickled unconsciously from his right orb.

        "NO! STOP IT! THAT'S ENOUGH!" Mikey's sharp cry brought his motions to a sudden halt.

        "But Mikey…"

        "You're hurting yourself with this, and I promised my Papa that you will not be hurt."

        Duncan felt the older man take the candle and pull it out of his anus. As the whoremaster looked on, Mikey positioned himself above him. A large finger brushed the tear from his eye.

        "I will do this now, Duncan," Mikey said softly. "I think I understand it now."

        "Do you?"

        "You told me to follow my heart. I will do it. Nice and slow. That's what I'll do. But just in case…" Mikey kissed Duncan tenderly. "If I hurt you, tell me and I'll stop. All right?"

        Duncan wanted to weep in happiness at Mikey's concern for him. He answered simply, "All right! But there's just one last thing. Do you have some oil to coat your member with? It will help ease the pain when you enter me."

        A broad grin quirked up the lips of the Bandit Chief's son, as he raised a knowing finger. "I have just the thing." Mikey hurried to his mother's chest and pulled out a stoppered bottle. The minute he opened it, the scent of roses filled the tent.

        The concubine gasped. "My God, Mikey! Is that what I think it is? That's Attar of Roses, isn't it! Do you know how expensive it is? Your father will not approve!"

        As he generously coated his cock with the precious oil, Mikey declared, "Only the best for you, Duncan." Before Duncan could argue, the older man massaged his body with it until it was relaxed and glistening. Mikey even poured a generous amount on the whoremaster's rosebud.

        In his surprise, and with the scent of roses tickling his nostrils and soothing his nerves, the concubine didn't notice that Mikey had straddled him again. A long moan of bliss rose from his throat as Mikey slid his cock effortlessly inside him.

        True to his word, the Bandit Chief's son was very gentle, his well-placed thrusts upon Duncan's pleasure point, causing lights to flash before his eyes.

        "It's not enough," the concubine muttered hoarsely. "Mikey, you may quicken your pace. Do not argue with me. I feel no pain. We are oh so close to the edge, and yet still so far. Take me, Mikey. Over the edge. Let us fall together."

        Despite his misgivings, Mikey did what the whoremaster told him to do -- moving faster and faster, thrusting deeper and deeper. All coherent thought was lost as he surrendered himself to primal urges. His left hand unconsciously gripped Duncan's cock, squeezing and stroking it hard.

        Their screams of ecstasy echoed throughout the camp as they climaxed -- with Duncan spilling his juices onto Mikey's hand while the Bandit Chief's son filled the younger man with his seed. Exhausted and glowing with the after effects of their coupling, the two men collapsed, arm in arm, onto the mat.

        "Thank you, Mikey," Duncan sobbed, kissing his lover's hand. "Thank you for being gentle with me."

        Mikey burst into giggles. "I had a great teacher."

 

        The two men made love many times after that. It was late afternoon when Duncan woke up, surprised to find both Mikey and Moeru feeding on his wine red nipples. Carefully, he eased himself away from his lover and the colt and tucked them in with a blanket. He donned a silk robe, unable to take the scratch of the caftan upon his still sensitive flesh, and placed a lacy shawl over his shoulders. Wrapping the veil around his face, Duncan emerged from the tent.

        As he walked around the camp, Duncan found himself thinking. Since he had left the Sultan's Palace, he had never been this happy and content. Except for that one moment. One night in the desert in Methos' arms. Duncan shook his head guiltily. Why couldn't he get the ancient out of his mind? Even when he made love to Mikey, it was Methos he saw in his mind's eye. Perhaps he was afraid that the Immortal might get flogged. However, Abdullah had promised that he would spare the Immortal. Before he even realized it, he found himself heading for Methos' tent.

        Suddenly, there was a rumble of horses' hooves, slowly getting louder. The bandits, with Abdullah at the fore, hurried into the camp and hastily dismounted from their steeds. Duncan could see that something was wrong as the Bandit Chief barked out orders to his men and the servants to secure their tents and the animals.

        Seeing him, the Bandit Chief hurriedly approached him.

        "What is it, my Lord? Where have you been?" the concubine asked worriedly. "Are we being attacked?"

        "No, it's much worse," Abdullah replied. "A simoom is heading our way."

        Duncan turned pale. A simoom…a violent sandstorm. In his shock, he didn't realize that the Bandit Chief was leading him back to the tent.

        "Stay with Mikey," said Abdullah firmly. "You'll be safe there."

        "I must see Methos first," Duncan countered. "Make sure that he's all right."

        "He's fine. He's inside his tent."

        Duncan yanked his arm out of the Bandit Chief's grasp. "I would feel better if I see him."

        Abdullah, however, grabbed him back, fingers digging deeply into his flesh. "That won't be necessary!"

        Duncan looked at the Bandit Chief with suspicion. Then, as he lowered his gaze, he saw the splatters of blood on Abdullah's tunic. The concubine's jaw dropped.

        "NO!" Duncan gasped out. "YOU DIDN'T! PLEASE TELL ME YOU DIDN'T!"

        Tearing his arm out of the bandit's grip, Duncan broke into a run, entering Methos' tent, only to find it empty. He made his way towards the horse pen, grabbing one of the packs hanging on a fence post. As he led Denko outside, he closed his ears to Abdullah's rants.

        "There's nothing you can do, Duncan! He's dead! And even if he hadn't perished from that flogging, the simoom would surely kill him!" The Bandit Chief reached out and grabbed Denko's reins as the concubine swung himself onto the stallion's back. "Duncan, stay here! It's dangerous out there!"

        However, the whoremaster jerked the reins back. Angrily, he said, "You know how important promises are to me. Never make me any promises that you don't intend to keep!"

        At these words, Duncan urged Denko into a full gallop, heading out of the bandits' camp and into the desert. Looming before him at the horizon was a thick, dark brown cloud of sand. He knew that right in the middle of that maelstrom was the ancient Immortal.

_        Hold fast, Methos!_ Duncan sent out a mental plea to the man who was trapped in the heart of the simoom. _I'm coming!_

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

 

        When Abdullah entered his tent with the kurbash secured to his hip, the first thought that came to Methos' mind was that Shinno had betrayed him. It was so easy to lapse into the mindless oblivion of despair after that. He did not fight back, even when his hands were tied behind his back and a noose was tightened around his neck, the other end of which was secured to the Bandit Chief's saddle. Even as they made the trek through the scorching heat of the desert, going to the punishment place, Methos was a picture of submission, not even struggling to keep up with the pace of Abdullah's horse, as he stumbled and was dragged and nearly strangled on the gritty sand. There was only one thought on his mind, and it was strong enough to block out the sight of his arms being stretched out and his wrists secured to two granite posts, standing in the middle of sand-covered ruins.

_        What a fool I am to give my heart and trust to a whore!_ the ancient berated himself.

        That first sting of the kurbash caught him by surprise. With each successive bite of the whip, however, the lash cutting deep welts into his skin, despair gradually gave way to anger.

        When the lash cut his cheek, his fury found its voice. "DAMN YOU, SHINNO! DAMN YOU FOR BETRAYING ME!"

        The next few minutes saw his mind blurred by a haze of agony, as Abdullah quickened and increased the force of his strokes. Numb as he was, Methos did not hear the Bandit Chief's rantings and ravings.

        "You dare curse him!" Abdullah roared, swinging the kurbash with utter ferocity. "It was you who betrayed him, and he was just a little boy! You knew he was still a child, but that did not stop you from abandoning him and branding him your worst foe! A terrified child knows nothing about betrayal! And yet, for years, you carry this grudge for him inside your heart! You destroyed him! You ruined his life and turned him into a whore!"

        Dazed and in pain, Methos did not know when the flogging ceased. Neither did he notice the flurry of activity around him as the bandits made haste to depart. Even as the wind started to build up and hum an ominous note, he remained oblivious to all, but the pain in his stretched arms and flayed back, and the resurgence of anger and hate in his heart.

        Suddenly, the simoom slammed into him, the sand scouring his injured back raw. Methos' scream was not of agony. It was Death's cry of rage.

        "DAMN YOU, SHINNO!" Methos' bellow rose above the din of the sandstorm. "DAMN YOU TO HELL!"

 

        With sheer determination, Duncan braved the simoom, unmindful of the gritty sand particles that tore his robe to shreds. Even the burnoose he found inside the pack was not sufficient protection against the sandstorm. There were moments when the concubine wanted to stop and let Denko rest for a few minutes. However, the stallion must have sensed the urgency in his young master and continued to press onward.

        "METHOS!" Duncan called out, thankful at least for the veil that not only shielded his face, but prevented sand from entering his mouth. "METHOS, WHERE ARE YOU?"

        For once, revenge was forgotten as concern for the ancient Immortal surfaced. Tears of fear and frustration welled up in the whoremaster's eyes as he prayed, _God, please! Help me find Methos! I could never forgive myself if anything should happen to him!_

        Denko suddenly began to whinny excitedly. At first, Duncan couldn't see anything before him. Then, he could make out dark shadows as the sand thinned a bit, lifted by the wind. With a flick of the reins, the concubine guided Denko in the direction of the shadows he had seen.

        Duncan's heart sank at the sight that greeted him. "My God, no! METHOS!"

        The Immortal was still tied securely to the two posts. Barely alive and conscious, his skin was scoured raw by the force of the simoom. However, this did not compare to the fiery welts crisscrossing Methos' back.

        Pulling out the dagger inside his pack, Duncan cut the ancient down. Before the Immortal could slip to the sand, the younger man leaped down from his horse and caught him in time.

        Realizing it was useless to return to the camp in Methos' condition, the concubine decided that they should wait out the storm in the shelter of the ruins.

        "Denko, come!" he called to his stallion.

        Together, they made their way towards the ruins. Duncan chose the building closest to them. Clicking his tongue to the stallion, they quickly went inside.

        Carefully, the concubine laid the ancient face down on the floor. Standing near the doorway, he brushed the sand from his tattered robes before taking the pack slung on Denko's back. To his relief, there was a skin filled with water. Tearing a strip of cloth from his burnoose, Duncan wet it and started to clean the Immortal's back.

        Methos jerked a bit, whimpering in pain.

        "Just hold on, Methos," the whoremaster said in reassurance. "Let me get the sand out of your wounds. It would make your healing faster."

        With infinite patience and care, Duncan washed out the sand and grit from the welts. To his immense relief, he was rewarded by the sight of tiny streaks of blue lightning that slowly closed the wounds. Exhausted from his ordeal, Methos had fallen into deep sleep.

        The concubine gazed at the Immortal's handsome face -- admiring those curl-tipped dark lashes, those thin, firm lips, and that nose. A smile quirked up his lips. Mikey called the ancient "Big Nose," but his nose wasn't big at all. It was…proud, distinguished.

        Duncan slowly lay down on the floor beside the ancient, his fingers tracing every inch, every feature on his face. How peaceful Methos looked, his skin as white as the marble statues he had seen in Rome! The whoremaster believed he could stare at his face for hours.

        Leaning forward, he kissed Methos at the tip of his nose. Taking the older man's arm, Duncan draped it over his shoulder, cuddling close to his body.

        "Sleep well, Methos," Duncan whispered soothingly, brushing a strand of hair away from the Immortal's forehead. "I'll watch over you."

 

        The whoremaster was jolted to wakefulness by a painful jerk on his hair. He opened shocked brown eyes to find Methos glaring down at him. The ancient's face was a mask of rage, teeth gnashing. His green gold orbs were shining with an insane light. His left hand held a fistful of the concubine's hair, the strands tangled between his fingers. The Immortal's right hand was clenched in a fist. For a moment, Duncan thought the older man was going to hit him.

        What Methos did next was much worse.

        Slamming the concubine down on the floor, the ancient yanked Duncan's robe up, baring his lower body. Too stunned to fight back, the young man could only watch in horror as the Immortal straddled him.

        "Methos!" Duncan whimpered in despair. "Why?"

        "You have the audacity to ask why!" Methos snarled in his face. "Shinno, I gave you my heart and my soul! But you were just playing with my feelings! All this time, it was Abdullah who has your favor!"

        "That's not true!"

        "What's going to happen to that desert pig when another man comes along? Are you going to use him too, the same way you used us?"

        "Methos, I don't understand!"

        A fierce slap fell upon Duncan's cheek that he tasted blood inside his mouth.

        "COWARDLY BITCH!" the ancient hissed in fury. "You don't even have the nerve to finish me off yourself! You had to let someone flog me to death!"

        Duncan shook his head. "No, you've got it all wrong!" But he saw that it was useless explaining to the enraged older man. In the end, he simply closed his eyes, wincing, as he was brutally penetrated.

        Methos' tears mingled with Duncan's as they dripped from his eyes and fell on the whoremaster's cheeks. With each thrust, the ancient said, "User! Whore! Why did I ever fall in love with you?"

        The same question was on Duncan's mind. _Why, Methos? Why did I have to fall in love with you?_

 

        It was already dark when the simoom abated at last. Completely healed, Methos stood at the doorway, gazing into the clear sky. Duncan was huddled in a dark corner, weeping softly, scratching at the congealed blood on his thighs.

        "I don't know if you'll listen to me now, Methos," he sobbed. "I'm afraid you're already deaf to the truth."

        Methos answered dryly, "I'm not interested in anything you have to say."

        "But I will still speak my mind." Duncan took a deep breath to steady himself. "Methos, the last thing I wanted was to see you hurt."

        "LIAR!"

        "It's the truth! Twice, I begged Abdullah not to flog you! He promised me he wouldn't, but he lied to me! I…I underestimated the depth of feeling he has for me. You warned me about this, but I didn't listen to you. I should've known he would do this, since he perceives you as a rival for my affection. He made it clear to me after…no…when he raped me last night."

        Hearing that last, Methos slowly turned to look at the concubine.

        "I'm sorry this happened. Truly, I am. But I never betrayed anyone! I never betrayed YOU!" Duncan reached for something beneath his robe. The ancient couldn't see what it was. "I can't live like this anymore! Everything I do is wrong! I never do anything right! It's always me who ends up getting hurt! I can't take anymore of this!"

        Methos' eyes widened, seeing the flash of the dagger's sharp edge. Before the whoremaster could plunge the tip into his breast, the Immortal leaped for the blade and yanked it out of the younger man's hands. Like a child, Duncan flung his arms around Methos' neck, burying his face in the ancient's shoulder.

        "I want to die!" Duncan wept brokenly. "Oh, Methos! Please let me die!"

        A tiny voice inside his heart told Methos that the concubine was telling the truth. He embraced Duncan tightly, rocking him back and forth.

        "Don't you dare do that again, Shinno," Methos began to cry as well. "If you choose death, I will do so as well. I would rather die than live alone without you."

        "But we could never be together, Methos! Can't you see? We shall always be enemies, always at odds with each other. We'll always end up hurting each other." In his mind, Duncan added, _I fear what you might do to me when you find out that I am the so-called 'Lord of the Keep' whom you hate._

        "What if I swear to you that I will change this time?"

        "Don't make promises that you could never keep."

        The ancient pulled the younger man even closer to him. "What's going to happen to us now?"

        "I don't know, Methos. I really don't know."

        "For now, could you find it in your heart to forgive me for what I did to you?"

        Duncan thought for a long moment. "For now, yes, I forgive you, but I won't forget. The wound is too deep. If this happens again in the future, I don't think I could forgive you anymore."

        "I swear I won't hurt you again," Methos repeated firmly.

        However, the concubine said sadly, "And like I told you, don't make promises you can never keep."

 

        The two men rode into the bandits' camp at dawn. Everyone was waiting for them. Seeing Methos still alive with nary a scratch on him, there were shocked expressions on some of the bandits' faces.

        "I've figured out a way to resolve this thing between us once and for all," Methos told the younger man seated before him.

        "And what do you propose?" asked Duncan in turn, his curiosity piqued by the older man's statement.

        Methos leaned forward, his brow touching the back of the whoremaster's head that his breath tickled Duncan's nape. The ancient's question that followed was like a bucket of ice cold water being poured on him.

        "I want to marry you, Shinno," he whispered. "Will you have me?"

        Duncan was speechless, his words locked in his throat. Before he could croak out an answer, they were met by Mikey and Abdullah. The Bandit Chief's son quickly lifted the concubine down from the saddle.

        "Are you all right?" Mikey asked in concern as he hugged Duncan. "I was so worried about you!"

        "As you can see, I'm quite fine." The whoremaster glared at Abdullah, who suddenly turned as white as a ghost. _No thanks to your father!_

        "That's it! I've had enough of this!" declared Mikey, with a stubborn stomp of his feet. "I'll go crazy if anything bad should happen to you! You need someone to protect you all the time!"

        As Methos and the Bandit Chief looked on in shock, Mikey took Duncan's right hand and fell to one knee. The concubine gasped as the older man slipped a sapphire ring onto his finger.

        "Will you marry me, Shinno?" he asked earnestly. "Please say you will?"

        "But…but…I…" Duncan stammered.

        Abdullah stepped forward and clapped a heavy hand on his son's shoulder. "This is a gallant offer you've made, my son, and I'm so proud of you." The Bandit Chief gazed into the whoremaster's startled brown eyes. "However, it is also my intention to marry him."

        "Wait just a God damned minute!" Methos jumped down from Denko's back, approaching the two men menacingly, growling. "Neither of you is going to marry Shinno! You'll have to go through my dead body first!"

        As the three men started arguing, Duncan's mind was a-whirl with confusion. Three marriage proposals in one morning…the concubine suddenly felt dizzy.

        "NO!" A clear, familiar voice rang out through the air. Everyone turned to look at the approaching rider in black.

        Duncan felt his blood run cold at the sight of that fiendish leer.

        "No one shall have Shinno," the rider said covetously, "because he is mine, do you hear me? MINE AND MINE ALONE!"

        "KAMIR!" Methos hissed in fury, realizing at once that the Emir's adviser was the mastermind behind the whoremaster's abduction.

        Everything was happening too fast and too soon for the concubine's mind to cope. Like a leaf, Duncan fell to the ground in a dead faint.

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

 

        "He is mine, I tell you! MINE! Damn it, Abdullah! I already paid you!"

        "That is why I am returning every dinar you gave me! Take it, you Indian dog! Our deal is off! You cannot claim him because I intend to make him my wife...er...spouse!"

        "But Papa! You can't marry him! I asked for his hand first!"

        "No one is marrying him, certainly not either of you three!"

        "Why? Are you saying that you'll marry him, Horseman? No fool would want to marry you!"

        "If I were Shinno, I wouldn't marry you either! You've got shifty eyes!"

        "I have shifty eyes? Have you taken a good look at yourself in the mirror lately, you idiot? I get dizzy staring at the way your eyes move from left to right like a pendulum!"

        "How dare  you call my son an idiot! Are you forgetting that you are in my camp? Maybe I should have you beheaded right now!"

        Duncan pressed the heels of his hands to his aching temples. Regaining consciousness in the Bandit Chief's tent, he had coerced a reluctant Rashad to tell him where the men were. Although still a bit woozy, the concubine hastened to the meeting tent, fearing mayhem and bloodshed. Instead, he was subjected to over an hour of verbal tussling, unable to get even a word in. He squeezed his eyes shut and his lips trembled, ready to break into tears of frustration.

        "Let's settle this once and for all!" Abdullah declared sharply.

        Dreadful silence followed. Duncan opened his eyes, only to find the four men gazing expectantly at him.

        The Bandit Chief said solemnly, "Shinno, you must choose."

        "Choose? Me?" the whoremaster stammered. "But I can't! The Emir..."

        "We are all in agreement on this," confirmed Kamir. "Whoever it is that you choose, he shall take you away from Zaid al-Bahir."

        "No one can free me from the Emir!"

        Methos gazed sternly at the concubine. "Are you saying that you're going to do it yourself? Damn it! You cannot fight for your freedom alone! Shinno, we want to help you!"

        "You want to help me? Bed me is more like it. If I marry either of you, I'll just be exchanging one master for another!"

        "I'm not like that, Shinno," Mikey piped in. "You know me. I love you very much."

        Duncan gave the Bandit Chief's son a fond smile. "I know you love me, Mikey, but not in _that_ way. You see in me the mother you never had." He looked at Abdullah as well. "I could never be Merida."

        "I know you're not my wife," argued the Bandit Chief. "I've learned to love you as you truly are."

        "Is that why you raped him?" Methos said snidely.

        Kamir stared at Abdullah, aghast. "You bedded him? You damned desert pig! I told you not to touch him!"

        The Bandit Chief glared at the two Immortals. "Didn't you two rape him before me?"

        That remark brought on another round of arguing.

        Clapping his hands over his ears, the concubine muttered, "Shut up! SHUT UP!"

        Preoccupied with their bickering, none of the men noticed at first the entrance of a tiny figure. What caught everyone's attention was the soft clip clop of hooves. As one, all four men frowned, watching Moeru as he trotted over to the concubine.

        "Moeru?" asked Duncan in surprise.

        The colt had a desert blossom in his mouth, which he laid on the whoremaster's lap. He then gave Duncan a toothy grin, wagging his tail.

        Groaning, the concubine declared, "Don't tell me you want to marry me too?"

        In answer, Moeru's grin grew wider, his big black eyes glowing. To the shock of Duncan's four human suitors, the colt nodded vigorously.

        The whoremaster slapped his hands on his thighs. He picked up the colt as he stood. "That settles it then!"

        "What do you mean?" the four men asked in unison.

        "Haven't you guessed?" Duncan said dryly. He bussed the colt lovingly on the nose. "I'm marrying Moeru! Farewell, gentlemen!"

        There were shocked expressions on the faces of the four men as concubine and colt headed outside. Before they left, Moeru whinnied in victory, giving his human rivals a wicked sneer, wagging his brows up and down.

 

_        "Duncan? Are you serious about marrying him?"_

        Despite how tense the situation was, Duncan couldn't suppress his smile as he watched Mikey and Moeru exchanging heated glares. The whoremaster thought he could see lightning bolts streaking in the space between their eyes. However, he turned somber, realizing how much the older man and the colt loved him. He had to tell the truth.

        "To be honest," the concubine began in hesitation, "I have no intention of marrying anyone."

        What sounded like a strangled squeak escaped Moeru's throat. Plopping down, the colt started to cry like a baby.

        Duncan was startled, seeing the reaction of the poor horse. Swiftly, he knelt down before the colt and hugged him. "Oh, Moeru! Please forgive me! I'm so sorry I did this to you."

        There were soft sobs behind him and he saw that Mikey was crying as well.

        "Mikey..."

        Sniffling, Mikey exclaimed, "If you didn't want to marry anybody, why did you tell me you love me? You've been lying to me!"

        The concubine reached out to the older man and embraced him. "I never lied to you, Mikey. I DO love you." Duncan pulled away. Taking Mikey's hands in his, he carefully laid the sapphire ring on his palm. "But not in the way that you believe -- as lovers, as man and spouse. The love I have for you is that which a parent has for a dear child."

        "Then, why did you make love to me?"

        "Because you were curious about the...act. I wanted you to experience it with someone who cares for you, not like what happened to me. It's also because you are...no one would..."

        Mikey said in bitter self-deprecation, "Because no one would want to make love to someone as stupid as me. You only did it because you felt sorry for me. The person you really love is Big Nose!"

        The whoremaster looked at Mikey, stunned. "That's not true! How could I love someone who raped me!"

        The older man, however, covered his ears with his hands. "I'm not listening to you anymore!" Tears poured from his eyes as he looked at Duncan. "Go back to your ugly Emir! No, stay with Big Nose! I wish they hurt you! I wish they hurt you really, really bad! I hate you, Duncan! I HATE YOU!"

        "MIKEY!" Before the concubine could stop him, the Bandit Chief's son fled from the tent, with an equally distraught Moeru at his heels. Duncan was about to give chase, but he bumped into Abdullah at the tent's opening.

        The Bandit Chief grabbed the younger man before he could get by. "Hold it! What is going on here? Why is my son crying?"

        At those queries, Duncan just burst into tears. "I didn't mean to hurt his feelings! I swear I didn't!"

        Abdullah led the concubine to the cushions and bade him to sit. He embraced Duncan comfortingly, rubbing a gentle hand over his back. When his sobs were nothing more than soft sniffles, the Bandit Chief wiped away his tears.

        Realizing who he was with, Duncan lowered his gaze. All he could say was a quiet "I'm sorry."

        "I think it is I who should beg for your forgiveness," answered Abdullah. "I shouldn't have made that demand of you. You are in an extremely difficult situation as it is."

        "I just don't want anybody to get hurt because of me. The Emir...he would do anything to get me back, even kill everyone I care for."

        "It's not hopeless, and you know that. We're offering you a chance at freedom."

        Duncan shook his head. "You and Mikey perhaps. But not Kamir. He is the same as Zaid al-Bahir. All they want is for me to be their whore."

        "And what about Methos?"

        "I don't know what he wants."

        "But you want him."

        "I don't want him enough to want to marry him."

        "Duncan," the Bandit Chief sighed, "you are a very poor liar. I've seen how you reacted when you found out what I've done to him."

        The concubine said bitterly, "He raped me in the desert, thinking that it was I who ordered him flogged."

        Abdullah was stunned at this revelation. "I'm sorry."

        "It doesn't matter now. My greatest concern is the Emir. I fear what might happen if I do not return to his realm soon."

        "Then we shall fight him, to the death if necessary. I will not let you fall into his hands."

        "You do not know him like I do." The whoremaster hesitated. "When I told you my story, I did not tell you the whole truth. The Emir...he is...he's the same man who..." The concubine cried out in despair, "No! It would be a mistake to go against him!"

        "Duncan, if you would only consider marriage... The Emir wouldn't dare to break a marriage bond."

        "And, like I told you, I will not be marrying anyone. I belong to the Emir."

        The Bandit Chief wearily stood up. "I want you to think about it very carefully. I do not believe that marriage is not an option open for us. Duncan, I love you, and I will do everything I can to protect you."

        Before the whoremaster could argue, Abdullah went outside the tent.

        With a groan, Duncan clutched his aching head in his hands. "You don't understand," he muttered in frustration. "I'm cursed! I'm doomed to lose everyone I love!" Straightening up, a firm resolve formed inside his mind. _I cannot stay here any longer. I must escape tonight, even if I have to make the lengthy trek across the desert alone._

 

_        "What does Shinno see in you anyway that he loves you more than he does me?"_

        Methos blinked owlishly at the angry man and colt who had barged inside his tent.

        After what happened at the meeting tent earlier, the ancient decided to cool his heels in his tent for awhile. One didn't need to have the wisdom of a 5,000-year old Immortal to see how distraught Shinno was. Abdullah, however, was right. Maybe marriage was the perfect solution to all their problems. It was the same solution that came to his mind earlier when he proposed to the whoremaster, before he was bombarded with proposals from the other men. The question was who would the concubine choose? The answer definitely was no one. Shinno obviously cared deeply for Abdullah and his son. However, he had a much greater fear of the Emir's reprisal upon the Bandit Chief and his camp. Kamir...even a fool wouldn't marry that treacherous bastard. As for him, Methos knew that he had hurt the concubine too many times for the younger man to want to marry him.

        Rather than mull over this sticky issue, Methos decided to bury his nose inside his journal. Strangely, however, instead of making any further attempts at drawing Shinno's face, he found himself making sketches of a charming little five-year old boy with round, bright puppy eyes, high cheekbones and a sweet, dimpled smile. He had just finished his sixth drawing of the child when Mikey and Moeru made their heated entrance.

        Methos gave the Bandit Chief's son a sad little smile. "To be honest with you, Mikey, I didn't know that he did."

        The brows on Mikey and Moeru's foreheads had joined to form a single arch.

        "Come in, you two," Methos waved to them in invitation. "We need to talk about this."

        In a few minutes, the Bandit Chief's son and his colt were seated before him with hostile expressions on their faces.

        The ancient began, "You are saying that Shinno loves me. Mikey, why do you think that?"

        "And I thought I was the one who's dumb," muttered Mikey. "I know you're like me, Methos. And so's Kamir. I get a buzzy feeling in my head when you're near, although your buzz is much stronger than his. I suspect this means that you're more powerful and older."

        "I don't know about being powerful. Yes, I am very old, but certainly not old enough that I did not see that someone loves me…and that, up to now, I still continue to hurt him."

        "You don't deserve him," the Bandit Chief's son said flatly.

        "None of us do. If circumstances had been different, if Shinno were not a concubine, perhaps we wouldn't be in this position we are now. He would be free to choose whom to marry. But he isn't. Shinno is the whore of a very rich and very powerful man. He had seen good friends die, simply because they dared to help him escape his current plight. If the Emir could do this to his friends, what more to the man who desires to have him for his lover, his spouse."

        "I'm not afraid of the Emir. I swore to myself that I would protect him, and I will do it. And Morrie too! Right, Morrie?"

        The colt whinnied his assent.

        "You cannot protect him, Mikey. It could get you killed."

        "I don't care. I just don't want to see Shinno being hurt anymore."

        "And that is the reason why you wanted to marry him. I want you to be honest with me, Mikey. I know how much you love Shinno, but what exactly do you feel for him?"

        The Bandit Chief's son made a shrug. "To tell you the truth, we made love, but…it didn't feel exactly right. I wanted Shinno to cuddle me and give me good night kisses."

        "In other words," Methos said softly, "you think of him as more of a parent, a mother to be exact."

        Reluctantly, Mikey nodded. "I just want him to be happy. I even figured that it would be all right if he married my Papa. But it's not. I could see how sad Shinno is. It's not just because he belongs to the Emir. He's…I can't think of a good word…very, very sad. Like he's keeping a lot of secrets and a lot of bad feelings inside him that he couldn't find happiness anywhere."

_        Secrets_… The ancient stared at the Immortal before him in startlement. "You are a lot smarter than you look, Mikey."

        Another small shrug. "I just sense things that's all…the same way I could feel that he loves you. Do you love him too, Methos?"

        "Yes, Mikey. Very much." Methos didn't see any reason to lie to Mikey. "However, there are so many things getting in the way of our love."

        "What things?"

        "Secrets…revenge…"

        "Are those things more important than love? Aren't you going to hurt Shinno more if you put them above your true feelings for him?"

        Methos' jaw dropped at the astuteness of the Bandit Chief's son.

        Mikey got to his feet. "Methos, please think about what I've said. I'm willing to take back my marriage proposal if you would be the one to protect Shinno and make him happy. If you cannot promise me this, then I will fight you…to the death, if I have to."

        "I don't want to be your enemy. If we ended up fighting each other, and one of us dies, it would surely break Shinno's heart, " said the Immortal. "Very well then, Mikey. I swear an oath to you. I will put my love for Shinno above all else. I swear that I will love him and, from this day forth, never give him even a single day of sorrow."

        The Bandit Chief's son gazed at Moeru. "Is that promise all right with you, Moeru?"

        The colt seemed to think for a moment. Then, he whinnied loudly, but not before baring his teeth at Methos.

        "What did he say?"

        "Morrie said it's all right with him. But if you hurt Shinno in any way, he'll bite your butt."

        Methos laughed. "Oh, no! I certainly wouldn't want that."

        Before he could leave, Mikey's eyes fell upon the open journal. "What's that?"  He picked it up before the ancient could stop him. "Who is this little boy?"

        "It's…it's someone I knew a long, long time ago."

        Mikey frowned as he gazed at that sweet face. "He looks like someone I know." Flipping through the pages, he commented, "I see you've been trying to draw Shinno's face, but making a terrible job at it."

        Methos gave the man a hopeful glance. "You've seen Shinno's face?"

        "Of course I have!" The Bandit Chief's son stuck his tongue out at the Immortal and said in a singsong manner, "He he he! It looks like Shinno trusts Morrie and me more than you! HA HA HA! Methos hasn't seen Shinno's face, but we have! WE HAVE!"

        "That is why you and Moeru are so damned lucky!"

        Granting the sketches a critical eye, Mikey remarked, "These are awful! May I borrow this?"

        "Why?" The ancient felt his heart pounding in his chest. "What are you going to do with it?"

        "I'm going to do you a little favor. I know Shinno doesn't want you to see his face, but I'll help you."

        "What are you going to do?"

        Mikey gave him a conniving wink. "You'll see. It's going to be a surprise. Bye, Methos!"

        "Bye, Mikey!" Methos watched as the fledgling Immortal leave his tent with the colt. Already, he was eager to find out what Mikey's surprise to him will be.

 

        Night had fallen and Mikey and Moeru still haven't returned to the tent. Duncan was very worried about them that he decided to look for them, before he sneaked out of the camp and made his solo journey through the desert, heading back to the Emir's domain. However, as he was dressing up in the inner chamber, he didn't notice the entrance of a dark, sinister figure. Turning around, the concubine literally bumped into Kamir.

        "Kamir!" Duncan gasped out. "What are you doing here?"

        "We have no time to waste," the Emir's adviser declared. "I'm getting you out of here." His hand tightened around the younger man's arm.

        "I'm not going anywhere with you! Let me go!"

        "Damn it, you stubborn Little Whore! Don't you know what's waiting for you at the Emir's realm? You will not just play whore to Zaid al-Bahir, but to the Devil himself!"

        "Don't you think I know? The Emir IS the Devil Incarnate!"

        But Kamir shook his head. "No, I'm not talking about the Emir, but someone else! _Something else!_ For the love of Allah, Shinno, if you value your sanity and your life, you must come with me!"

        "And I told you, I'm not going anywhere with you!" Duncan repeated, clearly incensed. "Why should I trust you? Like the Emir, you have raped me brutally! You will just make me your whore!"

        "Better that you be MY whore than the whore of a demon!" Before the concubine could argue, Kamir drove a fist into his belly, winding him. He hastily gagged the younger man and tied his wrists. Slinging Duncan's limp form over his shoulder, the Indian hurried outside the tent. "Believe me, Shinno. You'll be thankful to me for this."

        Silently, Kamir made his way through the camp, being careful to stay in the shadows to avoid detection. However, before he could reach the animal enclosure, his impending escape was halted by a sharp call.

        "What are you doing?" That voice exclaimed. "Where are you taking Shinno?"

        Whirling around, Kamir saw that it was the Bandit Chief's idiot of a son and his pet colt. "Stay out of my business, if you know what's good for you, you cretin!"

        The whoremaster gazed in fear at the older man. He prayed so hard that Mikey and Moeru would go and ask for help. To his shock, however, he saw Mikey pick up an axe.

        "LET HIM GO!" Mikey cried, as he and Moeru charged at the Emir's adviser.

        Duncan felt the breath knocked out of him as Kamir dropped him to the ground and unsheathed his scimitar in one graceful move. As he struggled to remove his bonds, he watched in shock as Kamir kicked out at Moeru, catching the colt in his soft parts. The colt whinnied in pain. With growing alarm and fear, the concubine saw the two men begin to fight. However, as they battled on, it was very obvious to Duncan who the more experienced fighter was. Still, Mikey gave as good as he got, determined to save the man whom he loved with all his heart.

        Removing his gag, Duncan shouted, "NO! STOP!"

        It was a crucial mistake because Mikey turned to look at him. That was the opening that the Indian was looking for. A horrified gasp escaped the whoremaster's lips, as Kamir thrust his sword into Mikey's belly.

        Seeing the Emir's adviser slowly raise his sword, the concubine cried, "KAMIR, NO! DON'T KILL HIM!"

        But the Indian did not listen to him. A scream was wrenched from Duncan's throat as Kamir took Mikey's head. A similar cry escaped from the colt as Moeru made to lunge again at the killer of his Master, but the whoremaster held him back.

        In horrified silence, they watched as Mikey's life energy rose from his body as a white mist. For a moment, Duncan thought he could see the mist take the form of the Bandit Chief's son, a hand reaching out to him.

_        "Don't make him take me, Duncan!"_ he could clearly hear Mikey's voice inside his head. _"Please! I want to be with you!" _Weeping, the concubine reached out to Mikey's ethereal form.

        However, all hell broke loose as Kamir absorbed Mikey's Quickening. Lightning flashed and explosions rocked the camp. Duncan embraced a furious Moeru tightly, as he watched the Emir's adviser shudder and shake from the wild energy he was taking into him. Maybe because Mikey was a fledgling Immortal, the Quickening did not last long. Still, weakened, Kamir fell to his knees.

        Sobbing, the concubine crawled towards Mikey's head and cradled it tightly in his arms, rocking back and forth.

        "BASTARD!" he barely heard Abdullah's anguished shout. "You killed my son! I will have your head as well!"

        Kamir swiftly got to his feet, although still a bit wobbly. "Come and try me, old man!"

        "No!" Methos said sharply, unsheathing his Ivanhoe. "Let me do this! Let me be the one to kill this dog!"

        Even Moeru was snarling, eager to taste blood.

        They did not notice that Duncan had stood up, Mikey's head still in his arms. "No, not yet! It will not be a fair fight if you take his head now, weakened as he is from the Quickening he had absorbed."

        Methos gazed at the concubine in shock. "Do you call this a fair fight, Shinno? This is cold-blooded murder! Mikey may be Immortal, but he is NOT a warrior!"

        "But I know that you Immortals have Rules. One fight at a time. No interference. Allah knows what else. Mikey fought him as bravely as any warrior. He earned a warrior's death." The whoremaster turned to Kamir. "I will give you an hour of rest, Kamir."

        "And what happens after one hour, Shinno? Will you have your fat lover or the Horseman fight me in a duel to the death?"

        The ancient gasped, seeing the very sharp glint in Shinno's eyes. With Mikey's head in his arms, the concubine looked like Death personified. Even he did not strike such a terrifying visage when he was still with his comrades.

        "No, Kamir. It is I who will face you in a duel," said Duncan, his voice as cold as ice.

        "Hah!" the Emir's adviser. "What does a whore like you know of duels?"

        "More than you know, Kamir. A lot more than you know." Duncan gazed at the head in his arms. In death, Mikey looked like he was merely sleeping. "Pray to Kali, thug, assassin! Your head, your life shall be mine!"

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

 

        The hour stretched to two to three hours more. It was Duncan himself who saw to the preparation of Mikey's body, carefully sewing the head back to his neck and anointing his dear friend with oil and myrrh. He then carefully wrapped Mikey up in a white shroud, but not before bestowing one last kiss upon those cold lips.

        Abdullah was beside himself with grief, weeping like a lost child. Rashad, who was crying as well, could only embrace his Lord, murmuring words of comfort. However, the Bandit Chief was inconsolable, unable to accept the death of his only son.

        When he was done, the concubine approached Abdullah. For the first time since they entered the mourning tent, Rashad saw the stern features of the young man soften, his eyes misting with tears.

        "Come, my Lord," Duncan offered gently. "Your son is ready."

        Taking the Bandit Chief's arm, the concubine led him towards his son's body. Seeing Mikey's shrouded form, Abdullah broke down completely. He leaned over, taking Mikey in his arms, wailing in sorrow. Seeing that no words could comfort the older man, Duncan helplessly clenched his fists.

        Rashad inched towards the whoremaster. Whispering, he advised, "My Lord, please don't do this. I've already sent word to Joseph through my carrier hawk. He and your friend Khassim will be arriving here with the caravan very soon. They intend to reach you before the Emir decides to come after you himself."

        "I will not be swayed from my course," Duncan said firmly as he made to leave the tent. "Because of me, Mikey's dead. I cannot rest until I've satisfied my desire for vengeance."

        However, as he stepped outside, a voice declared, "Why am I not surprised that that would be your answer?"

        Before the concubine could act, a sharp blow hit the back of his neck. He crumbled in Methos' arms.

        "Rashad…" the ancient called to the Watcher, who hastened to his side. Handing the whoremaster over to him, Methos requested, "Don't let him out of your sight! I'll take care of Kamir." The Immortal did not bother to wait for Rashad's reply. Instead, he went straight in the direction of the training enclosure.

        Kamir was already there, waiting. Seeing the ancient, he smiled. "For awhile there, I thought I would be facing Shinno."

        "Disappointed?" Methos queried.

        "In fact, I'm relieved. I wasn't looking forward to killing my Little Whore. You, on the other hand, I intend to get rid of. I cannot tolerate a rival, especially one who is obviously loved by my sweet flower. You are a much greater threat to me than the Emir."

        The ancient pulled out his Ivanhoe. "So what are you waiting for? Let's settle this right now!"

        Kamir grinned wickedly. "Methos, I'd be very happy to!"

        Letting out fierce battle cries, the two Immortals charged at each other. Meeting in the center of the training enclosure, their swords clashed.

        The sounds of fighting brought all the bandits running towards the enclosure. They watched as the two men battled, exchanged thrusts and swipes at each other. Methos nimbly evaded an arching slash to his belly. Attempting a hacking blow with his Ivanhoe, Kamir easily blocked it with his scimitar.

        Suddenly, however, the Bandit Chief entered the enclosure, with sword in hand. "HE'S MINE! HIS HEAD IS MINE!"

        "My Lord, NO!" cried Methos, seeing Kamir ready his blade to strike at the grieving old man. Swiftly, the ancient placed himself between the two men, pushing Abdullah aside. He gasped in shock as Kamir's sword pierced his back. Falling to his knees, Methos did not see the Emir's adviser disarm him and the Bandit Chief, throwing their weapons away.

        The bandits gaped in horror at the vulnerable position of their leader and the Horseman. All were powerless to do anything.

        Laughing in triumph, Kamir exclaimed, "This is goodbye, gentlemen." Slowly, he raised his sword, ready to deliver the killing blow.

        There was a whistling sound that pierced the hushed, tense atmosphere. A flash of something sharp. Kamir hissed in pain as his hand was cut, forcing him to drop his sword. Sticking out of the sand was a _shuriken_. As one, the three men turned to stare at the lithe figure in black, standing perfectly balanced on top of a fence post, his long dark hair fluttering in the breeze behind him.

        "This fight is between you and me, Kamir," that familiar voice declared. "Not them!"

        Kamir's eyes were wide with shock, recognizing that voice immediately. "Shinno! You! You are the ninja?"

        "Did you think I was just your helpless Little Whore?" Duncan sneered at him. "I told you there are a lot of things that you don't know about me. You should have been more vigilant in guarding me."

        "Shinno, don't!" cried Methos, feeling his life ebbing away with every breath. "You're no match for him!"

        "But I must try. For Mikey," the concubine said, the guilt obvious in his words. "I cannot forgive myself if I don't avenge his death."

        "Avenging my son's death is my responsibility!" Abdullah called out to the younger man. "Don't do this, Shinno!"

        "As I told Rashad, you cannot sway me from my course." Duncan leaped high into the air, unsheathing his katana at the same time. "DRAW YOUR SWORD, KAMIR! IT'S TIME FOR US TO FIGHT!"

        Before his feet could even touch the ground, their swords met in a loud clash. If before Methos had doubts about the whoremaster's prowess with a blade, all of it faded away when he saw Duncan twirl around in mid-air like a top, nearly wrenching Kamir's blade from his grasp. Even the Indian was stunned by the concubine's move.

        The next few minutes saw Duncan deftly evading Kamir's swipes at him with graceful somersaults and other aerial acrobatics. So quick was the whoremaster that the Emir's adviser had difficulty in keeping up with the younger man's moves. Already, there were cuts on his cheek and arms and a slash over his chest.

        Realizing that he could not score a hit with the concubine airborne, Kamir knew that he had to bring Duncan back to earth and fast.

        "SHINNO, LOOK OUT!" Methos shouted in warning as the Indian threw the silken cord at the whoremaster, easily wrapping around Duncan's ankle.

        "YOU'RE MINE!" Kamir declared as he gave the cord a strong jerk, pulling the concubine closer and closer to him. For a moment, it seemed as if the young man was trapped.

        It was then that the ancient noticed that Duncan had tensed his legs. Before Kamir could swing his sword, the whoremaster brought his two feet together, kicking the Indian in the chest and using him for momentum. As Kamir staggered back, Duncan did a somersault, letting his blade fly out. There was shock and disbelief on Kamir's face as his head was severed from his body, eyes blinking at the dark-clad whore who was sheathing his sword with much ceremony.

        As everyone looked on, thick fingers of mist rose from the Immortal's body, reaching out to the only other Immortal in the vicinity, namely Methos. However, one tiny cloud swirled towards Duncan, assuming the ethereal form of the Bandit Chief's son.

        "It's finished, Mikey," said Duncan in finality, the tears falling from his eyes. "It's finished."

        Mikey leaned forward and kissed the whoremaster on the lips. "Please take care of Morrie for me."

        It was Methos who answered, his voice strained. "Why don't you and Shinno take care of Moeru together?" Duncan nodded at that suggestion.

        That  invitation was the only thing that Mikey needed. With a happy cry, Mikey's Quickening leaped into the concubine's Pre-Immortal body, at the same time that Kamir's Quickening slammed into Methos.

        Duncan cried out in surprise and pain as Mikey's essence allowed itself to be absorbed in the cells of his beloved friend's body. Closing his eyes, he smiled as the pain dissipated, feeling Mikey suffuse him with warmth and love.

        The same, however, could not be said for Methos. Kamir's Quickening was liquid fire, pouring into his body in an agonizing torrent. But it was the terrible images that battered his mind and wrenched a scream from his throat. Images of a magnificent palace, walking through a darkened hallway. The room with its two doors, graven images carved on it. There were small holes on that door. If he were to peer inside those holes, he would see blazing red eyes and sharp claws reaching out to grab him. Methos stepped back involuntarily, only to bump into someone behind him. Turning, he beheld the silk and satin bedecked form of the Emir Zaid al-Bahir and his two trusted aides standing on either side of him, leers on those faces that he knew, two faces, in particular, that he had grown to hate.

        Blinded by pain, Methos was oblivious to the chaos that descended upon them like a sandstorm -- riders that appeared out of nowhere and invaded the camp. He did not see Duncan standing before their leader with arms outstretched, begging that the bandits be spared. The ancient did not see the concubine disarmed and hauled onto the saddle of that big black stallion, just as the riders started to cut the helpless bandits down.

        The agony of the Quickening was quickly overwhelmed by the pain that pierced his chest. Gazing down at himself, he saw an arrow embedded in his heart. There was the soft sound of horse's hooves as the leader of the invaders rode towards him, Duncan held securely in his arms. Methos gasped, beholding at long last the Emir Zaid al-Bahir. It was the scarred, grinning face of someone he knew so well.

        "It's been a long time, Brother," the Emir greeted him, saluting him with the crossbow in his hand. "Heal quickly, so that you could catch up with us!"

        "KRONOS!" the ancient hissed in fury.

        Duncan reached out to him. "Methos, please don't leave me! HELP ME!"

        As Methos fell into Death's embrace, the last thing he saw were the tears that glimmered in the concubine's lovely brown eyes.

 

        Ragged inhalation and the onrush of desert air into his healing chest heralded Methos' return to the land of the living at daybreak. As his vision cleared, his eyes focused on the three concerned faces staring down at him. One by one, he looked at each man, saying their names.

        "Joseph! Khassim! Rashad!" The ancient was assisted to his feet by the moor. "What hap…OH MY LORD!"

       Methos staggered around the devastation that was once the bandits' camp. Ululating cries rose through the smoke-blackened air as the women mourned their dead. Everywhere he turned, his eyes fell upon dead bodies on the ground and the smoldering remains of tents.

        "NO!" the Immortal placed his hand over his eyes to block out the terrible sights, but it was forever etched in his memory. They merely intended to put Mikey's body on the funeral pyre this morn. The pyres will burn long and hard this day.

        A hand was placed on his shoulder. "Forgive us," Khassim said in deep sorrow. "We came as quickly as we could."

        "We thought we would be first to reach you," added Joseph. "We never thought that the Emir would reach this place before we do."

        "Of course he would beat you to this place!" Methos snapped back. "The Emir Zaid al-Bahir is Kronos! This…this massacre…this is the handiwork of the Horsemen!"

        The two men lapsed into guilty silence, lowering their gaze to a point between their toes.

        Methos shook his head in dismay. "This should never have happened if you told me the truth right from the start! Now, people are either dead or dying, and Shinno has fallen into Kronos' hands! Is there anything else you haven't told me?"

        Joseph and Khassim looked at each other for a moment. They turned to Rashad for support, but the young Watcher quickly shook his hands in negation.

        "Don't look at me like that!" Rashad exclaimed. "I know nothing about this!" He glared resentfully at the three men. "Perhaps if you didn't come here, Mikey would still be alive!"

        The haggard figure of the Bandit Chief slowly approached them. "If there's anyone to blame for all this, it would be me. When I accepted Kamir's money to have the Emir's concubine abducted, I brought this tragedy upon us all."

        "You are not to blame," Methos told him firmly. "It was Kamir who started this chain of events. I sincerely regret, that after the love and hospitality you've shown to Shinno, you had to suffer this great loss, especially that of your son."

        "But it was Shinno who avenged my son's death, and I will be eternally grateful to him for what he has done. Methos, I know you would be attempting to free him from the Emir. If you should need my assistance, have your friend Joseph send a message to Rashad. Wherever you may be, we shall go to you. Many of the desert tribes have no great love for the Emir. It would be easy to rally them to our cause."

        The ancient shook Abdullah's hand. "Your help will be most welcome, my Lord."

        A tiny figure crept towards them, his round black eyes blinking hopefully at them.

        Methos gently ran his palm over Moeru's brow. "I would like to ask your permission if I could bring Moeru with me. I know he is your son's little friend…"

        "As well as Shinno's," the Bandit Chief concluded for him. "I'm sure Mikey would want Moeru to be at Shinno's side." The old man grinned down at the colt. "You would want that too, am I right, little one."

        The colt nodded eagerly.

        "Very well then. With Methos, you shall go." Abdullah gave the ancient a meaningful look. "There is one last thing." He reached within his robes and pulled something out. Methos' jaw dropped, seeing his journal in the Bandit Chief's hands. Turning to Joseph and Khassim, he said, "I understand how difficult this is for you, to keep this secret for so long."

        "Secret?" the Immortal blurted out. "What secret?"

        Abdullah ignored the ancient's queries. "Gentlemen, now is no longer the time for secrets.  It was my son who showed me, through this book, that the truth must be known now, before it's too late."

        Joseph argued, "But we can't! We swore an oath to Shinno!"

        "As did my son and I. However, it is an oath that must be broken. The concubine you call 'Shinno' is in grave danger, and the only man who can save him is the same person that he believes he hates with all his heart." The Bandit Chief offered the journal to the ancient, smiling. "Mikael and I know differently. Here, Methos. I believe my son promised you this."

        With trembling hands, Methos took his journal from Abdullah. His heart thudded in his chest as he flipped through the pages. He saw that his earlier attempts had been marked with X's over the features of the concubine's face that Mikey believed wrong -- the nose, lips, ears, the shape of his chin. Turning the pages, the ancient saw that the Bandit Chief's son had left the pictures of the child untouched. However,  his heart immediately came to a stop as he flipped to the last two pages.

        The left page contained the last sketch he had made of the little boy who was once his beloved ward. What struck him, however, was the sketch on the right page. The face of a very handsome young man smiled up at him. Although in black and white, Methos could still envision that beautiful face in the flesh -- expressive brown eyes capped by thick brows, long lashes, a fine nose, high cheekbones, full lips forming a loving smile. Methos found himself staring at both sketches. The more he looked, the more he could see the changes that came with the growing process. Only those beautiful doe eyes remained the same.

        "NO!" Methos gasped in disbelief. "It can't be! This isn't true!"

        "Would it help if I told you his name?" Abdullah inquired. "He revealed his true name to me and my son."

        Khassim softly interrupted, "Think about it, my friend. You were given two important clues as to his identity. 'Shinno'…'Sanchi'…"

        "The first means 'prince,'" the ancient mumbled in shock. "'Sanchi' means 'Highland.' But I believe it's the shortened version of what he is -- '_Sukottorando sanchi-jin_'. A Highlander."

        With an anguished cry, Methos dropped his journal and broke into a run. On and on he ran, his mind pummeling him with images of the past -- of a brave little boy who allowed himself to be abused in order to save his beloved mentor from further depravities at the hands of his Brothers.

        An angry finger pointed at that innocent, tear-filled cherub's face. _"You have betrayed me, boy! I will return to get my revenge on you!"_

        Tears streamed down his cheeks as the images of a child peering down at him from a tower window and a young man seated on a horse began to overlap. Both had hands reaching out to him. Both had tears falling from their lovely doe eyes.

        Both the child and the man cried out to him, _"Methos! Please don't leave me!"_

        As he reached the top of the sand dune, Methos fell to his knees, his hands clutching and squeezing fistfuls of sand. Gripping the sides of his head, he muttered hoarsely, "What have I done! Good God, what have I done!"

        "DUNCAN!" Methos screamed the concubine's true name into the wide, merciless expanse of the Sahara.

 

**TO BE CONTINUED IN _LOVE'S FIERY TEMPEST STORY ARC 3: IN THE REALM OF THE EMIR_**


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